


After the Fall

by allthesapphicstars (Ello99)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And world building, Azgeda Clarke Griffin, F/F, Grounder Clarke Griffin, I'll add more tags when I think of them, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, all goes to hell when the skaikru arrive, alongside ontari, and clarke is too damn bi, and lots of angst, but lexa is just too pretty, but she means well, can never pick a side, clarke falls on her own, clarke is just conflicted, clarke is nia's weapon, is brought up by azgeda, lexa has a bit of a temper sometimes, nia really hates lexa, sent to demolish the coalition, spy clarke, starts like 10 years before the 100 come to the ground, the two are like sisters, theres gonna be a lot of build up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2018-12-17 20:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 75,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ello99/pseuds/allthesapphicstars
Summary: After an accident caused Clarke to fall from the ARK as a child she recieved a new start in life. Gone was Clarke Griffin, stubborn and strong-willed, beloved daughter; and in her place stood Klark kom Azgeda, fearless warrior.Brought up under the watchful eye of Nia, Clarke is a loyal servant to the Azgeda way of life. Devoted entirely to Nia's cause to dismantle the Coalition and destroy the Commander.Until she met Lexa kom Trikru.Sent to Polis to spy on the Heda and her coalition by Nia, Clarke finds herself guided by her heart instead of her head. But as she struggles with who she truly is, the very foundations of her world begin to crumble and fall apart and Clarke doesn't know if she can balance all the pieces.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 

 

“Clarke, I said no.” Abby exhaled, closing her eyes and willing away the frustration. She’d learnt over the years that it was more important to maintain the air of calm then to actually be calm.

  
“But it’s not fair!” Clarke whined. She was looking up at her mother, blinking rapidly, trying to muster tears in order to reinforce the desperation of her plight. Abby was having none of it, too used to her daughter’s manipulation tactics to allow them to take effect (unlike her husband).

  
“Clarke I am not having this argument. My answer is no, and that is final.” Abby remained steadfast, staring her daughter down.

  
“I HATE you! You never let me do anything!” Clarke screamed, stamping her foot on the ground, a flushed red rising up her face. Abby could barely contain the wince at her daughter’s words, she would never admit it, always keeping a cool exterior, but Clarke got under her skin. More and more as she got older.

  
Not gaining the desired response from her mother, Clarke stomped her foot again before pivoting on her heel. The whoosh of the automatic door and a flash of golden hair and Clarke was gone from the Griffins’ quarters. Her feet smacked against the cold, clean metal of the ARK as she raced through the sterile corridors.

  
Clarke was angry, in fact she was angry most of the time nowadays. Whatever she did, Abby would always find something wrong with it, or whenever she wanted to do something her mum would say no. And it wasn’t like she could speak to her dad, because he was never home. There was something going on in the engineering department and he was spending all his time locked away with his colleagues, fixing whatever was going on. But of course Clarke didn’t know what it was because she was just a kid, and her parents didn’t trust her enough to tell her. She was fed up with being treated like a child, because she wasn’t stupid, and it just wasn’t fair.

  
All she had wanted was to go the Eclipse party with Wells over in Farm Station. But her mum said she was too young, and she didn’t trust Clarke to keep herself safe so far from home. It was entirely unfair, because Jaha had said Wells could go, and she would have been with him so it’s not like she would be alone and she wasn’t going to do anything stupid and it just wasn’t fair because Abby had said no before Clarke even had the chance to make her case. She hadn’t even given her a chance.

  
Clarke had slowed from a run to a brisk walk, still stepping heavily so that the clang of her footsteps echoed down the corridor. Receiving a few annoyed glares as she raced past. She stopped when she reached a crossways. She hadn’t really been paying attention to where she was going and whilst she wasn’t lost, because it was kind of impossible to get lost in the floating metal tube you’d been born on, she also wasn’t completely sure where exactly she was in that moment.

  
Clarke made a decision and turned left, following the corridor as it curved round. She stopped for a moment to gaze out a window at the black abyss that was a continual presence throughout her life. Maybe the stars looked different down on the ground, and maybe that was why the poets in the old world wrote about them so much, but to Clarke they always looked the same through every window she came across. A perpetual dark, cold, nothingness.

  
Eventually Clarke reached a dead-end. The corridor stopped in front of a door. It was an old access door, one that could double up as an airlock to cordon off individual sections. Clarkes’ anger was still present but it was temporarily replaced by curiosity as she typed in her mother’s access code, that she most definitely wasn’t supposed to know, let alone have memorised and use to sneak into whatever part of the ARK she or Wells felt like exploring.

  
The door sprung open, and despite the disused appearance of the door, the chamber it opened into was just like any other on the ARK. The sterile, recycled air keeping the entire structure at a consistent and sometimes maddening temperature, not cold but never warm. Clarke stepped through the door and with a whoosh it shut behind her.

  
The chamber was predominately bare, everything that was there neatly tucked away in its place. Clarke moved around the room, opening various containers and rummaging through what she found. In one container, Clarke pulled out a blanket. Pleased with her find, she tugged it out of the box. Dragging it behind her as she moved toward what looked like giant armchairs.  
The chair in question took a bit of an effort to climb into, the sides being higher than she thought and the metal rim hard, cutting into her shins as Clarke leant back down to retrieve her blanket. Clarke curled up in the seat, wrapping the blanket around her after pulling the metal cover down over the chair, cocooning her from the cool chill of the ARK’s air conditioning and the gentle hum that is ever present.

  
Clarke let her anger bubble up again, stuffing the blanket into her mouth as she let out a scream, although it was a subdued muffled sound that actually escaped. Clarke let the image of her mother turning her down once again fill her mind, punching the seat repeatedly until her arm grew numb and she too tired. Hot tears rushed to her eyes as she slumped in her chair, wrapping the blanket tightly around her, small whimpers escaping.

  
Not for the first time, Clarke found herself wishing she was anywhere but on the ARK. She dreamt about being on the ground, about what it might be like to feel the sun, and rain and actual wind. Anything other than the sterile blast of the air conditioning. To see actual colours that were bright and vibrant, not muted and grey. To eat something that wasn’t just as sterile and bland as every other aspect of the ARK. Above all, she wished for the freedom that the ground offered her, a freedom away from Abby’s constant denial and the endless rules and regulations of the ARK. Clarke drifted to sleep, curled under her blanket, dreaming of the ground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Jake paced back and forth. Glancing at the monitor and then back at the plans, then at the levels and then back at the monitor.

  
“And you’re sure that these numbers are correct?” Jaha asked, watching as Jake continued his pacing, dragging a hand down his face and resting it on his jaw. Jake sighed.

  
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve looked at the numbers multiple times. We’ve got about 60 years before we need to start taking the air supply issue seriously.” Jake repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. He knew that Jaha was just being thorough, the issue was serious, the future of all the lives on the ARK were at stake, and so they needed to start taking steps now.  
Jaha sighed. He loved the ARK and he loved being Chancellor, but he hadn’t signed on to deal with the start of an airflow crisis. They still had over 100 years before they were meant to even think about returning to the ground, he was never meant to be on board to see it. But now this issue was forcing his hand. They needed to prepare.

  
“Alright, so what steps do we need to take now to begin to prepare?” He asked, turning to the room of engineers before him. A lot of blank stares returned his question, a few just looked straight to Jake. Clearly he had a plan.

  
Jaha cocked a brow and looked at his friend. “Well?”

  
“Ok, I have an idea, but you have to hear me out before you go and say no,” was the response. Jaha took a deep breath.

  
“I’m not going to like this idea, am I?” He enquired, Jake shrugged.

  
“Well I mean, you’re not going to love it, but there are worse routes we could go.” Jake smiled whilst one of his fellow engineers let out a snort of derision. Clearly there had been some disagreement along the way.

  
“Go ahead” Jaha stated, raising his arm in a gesture for Jake to continue with his explanation. Jake clapped his hands together and smiled.

  
“Right” He started, “the way I think we should move forward is in stages. It’s going to take time to fix the air issue, and well, we do have over half a century to do so, so for now I think our first move should be to try and limit excess usage in order to extend that time frame. As well as this, we’re going to need to take steps towards returning to the ground. We need to see if any of the old Pods would still survive re-entry into the earth’s atmosphere.” Jaha nodded his head, mulling over the possible reactions from the Council. He gestured for Jake to carry on.  
“We’ve already looked into it and there are several functioning drop pods in Sector 7 that we can use to experiment. I sent two engineers down there a few days ago to clear the site and the drop pods are ready to go. We only need to send one pod down initially, we’ve put some observation equipment on a pod to help us measure the radiation levels, if it makes it through re-entry. We’ll see what the levels are and then we can go from there.

  
“In the meantime, we should look into what sectors of the ARK aren’t essential to our survival here. Whatever sector has the least productivity, we’ll relocate its inhabitants and strip its essential resources and then we can eject it from the main ARK, by reducing the amount of space we need to provide air for we should be able to give ourselves some more time. It’s not a solution, but it is a start to longevity.” Jake concluded, looking towards Jaha, trying to gauge his reaction to what was really a very rudimentary plan. Jaha was deep in thought, running through the plan and considering all the ways it could go wrong and ultimately how beneficial it would be.

  
“So what you’re saying is”, he began after a few moments contemplation, “that you already have a pod in place to test re-entry capabilities?”

  
Jake nodded his head as another engineer, Sarah, replied. “Yeah, all the observation equipment is set up on that pod, as well as landing coordinates, all we need is your approval Chancellor and we can launch it.”

  
“And launching an unmanned pod or probe doesn’t require a vote from the Council, just the Chancellor’s permission. So if you approve we can launch within the hour.” Another engineer quickly added.

  
Jaha dragged a hand down his face and drew a deep breath, nodding his head on the exhale. “It’s just an exploratory probe? To see how long until the earth is inhabitable, right?” Jaha knew he was being repetitive but if he was going to make a move without alerting any other members of the Council he wanted to have all the facts and make sure he could prove he was doing so in everyone’s best interest. Things had been tense recently and elections were fast approaching.

  
The room of engineers collectively nodded and murmured their agreement. Jaha nodded once in acknowledgement. “Alright, go ahead. Launch the pod Griffin.”

  
Jake turned towards the centre console.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

  
“DISENGAGING. DISENGAGING.”

  
Clarke woke with a start at the loud voice and incessant beeping. Panicked at the noise, she looked around her in alarm, disorientated and unsure of where she was. Just as she remembered the fight with her mum, the disused chamber and the armchair she’d made a nest in, the chair itself gave a jolt, pitching Clarke forward and into what she now noticed to be a control panel. Multiple lights blinked back at her.

  
“PREPARE FOR LAUNCH.” The disembodied voice stated. Clarke’s eyes blew wide as saucers. She’d never had much interest in how the ARK was run or what her dad actually did, but common sense told her that what she had mistaken as an armchair was clearly not. And whatever it was, was making preparations to launch from the ARK.

  
Clarke frantically looked at the flashing control panel before her. But there were too many buttons, dials and lights and she had no idea what any of them meant and so she had no idea how to make this thing stop.

  
“LAUNCH IN T-MINUS 30 SECONDS”

  
Clarke’s heartrate skyrocketed. “wait. Wait. WAIT” She yelled. Looking around the cabin of the pod for something that could help her. Her hands still hovering over the control panel.  
“LAUNCH IN 20 SECONDS”

  
Hot tears streamed down Clarke’s face, her breaths coming ragged and uneven. “STOP, wait PLEASE. IM IN HERE. IM IN HERE. PLEASE STOP.” She hiccoughed. Images of her fight with her mum ran through her mind, she was panicked and full of regret. Why did she have to be so petulant? Why couldn’t she have just listened to her mum? She didn’t mean to misbehave or get so angry, she hadn’t meant to upset Abby. She just wanted to go back and apologise. “I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be here. PLEASE SOMEONE STOP”. Clarke couldn’t control her tears, becoming hysterical in her panic.

  
“LAUNCH IN 10 SECONDS”

  
Clarke had a moment of rationality. No one was coming to save her.

9

She was going to have to save herself. She just needed to stop crying and be smart. Just be smart.

8

What did she remember from science class? She needed to make sure she was secure. It was too late to stop the launch now. 

7

She frantically searched around her. There was no suit. There was no mask. There was no.... The Chair. 

6

The chair had a belt and a buckle. She needed to get herself secure so she wasn’t thrown against the walls of the pod.

5

Clarke scrambled into the chair, kicking the blanket away from her feet in a desperate attempt to detangle herself.

4

She fumbled for the belt. Using all her strength to pull it down with one hand whilst she fumbled for the buckle with the other.

3

She secured one side of the belt. Grasping tightly onto the other as she desperately tried to jam it alongside its counterpart. 

2

The belt was completely secure. Not tight enough though. She was going to have to hold on tight.

1

“I’m so sorry mum. I love you both. I love you so much.”

A great roar filled Clarke’s ears. Her head pushed back against the seat with force. Tears streamed from her eyes. Her heart pounded in her chest. A lump in her throat. Her stomach doing somersaults. She was going to be sick. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t see. She was going to die. Clarke Griffin was going to die and the last thing she ever did was tell her mum she hated her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
The launch pod disengaged from the ARK successfully. The external observation equipment still intact as it plummeted towards earth’s outer atmosphere. Readings coming through clear despite the high velocity of travel. 

Thelonious Jaha, Jake Griffin and the room full of engineers watched on. A few with wide grins across their faces, even Jaha looked mildly excited. This was the first step anyone had taken to getting home in over 80 years. This was the first step towards fixing the oxygen supply and ensuring the survival of the human race. 

The triumphant room of individuals had simultaneously started the process of saving the ARK and sentencing their boss’s beloved daughter to what could only be death. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is where the story really starts!
> 
> All speech that is in italics is in trigedasleng, not italics is english.

**Chapter 2**

 

 

Clarke became aware that she was awake before she actually opened her eyes. She groaned groggily, only really aware that her neck was stiffer than it had ever been before. She must have slept at an awkward angle. Or maybe it was because she’d been turning a lot in the night. She’d had the weirdest and most vivid dream she’d ever had. 

Her eyes shot wide open, sitting bolt upright and letting out a panicked gasp. It was just a dream. It had just been a dream. She hadn’t really been ejected from the ARK, had she?

Clarke blinked rapidly and looked around. Her chest heaving as she drew in several deep breaths. She could hear her blood and the rapid sound of her heartbeat. Her room was still pitch black, and as she grew more awake a thought registered in the back of her mind that her bed was a lot more uncomfortable then usual. She closed her eyes again to draw in some more deep breaths and calm the racing of her heart. Her room being dark meant that it was still the middle of the night. Obviously that really weird dream had caused her to wake up.

She just had to keep telling herself that none of it was real and she would be able to get back to sleep. That’s what her dad said whenever she’d had a bad dream: just remind yourself that it was your mind playing all of your worries and fears out for you, and through the dream they would escape so they could no longer trouble you, but none of them were actually real so it didn’t matter. 

She found herself marginally calmer, but her heartrate was still not back to a speed conducive to sleep. Her mum had always said that deep breaths would settle her heart and if that didn’t work then a glass of water would also do the trick. Clearly breathing wasn’t enough because Clarke could still feel that ball of unease in the pit of her stomach rolling around. Her dream had been so vivid, she’d really thought she was going to do die in the lonely blackness of space. 

But as Clarke went to move forward, to get out of bed and get herself a glass of water, she was met with enough resistance that it forced her back into her seat. Her hands scrambled at the thing causing the physical pressure against her chest and thighs. Her hands becoming frantic as they clawed at whatever was holding back. But she couldn’t get any traction, any grip on the fabric. 

The realisation hit her almost as quickly as it had taken for the panic to rear its head once more. She wasn’t in her bed in their quarters on the ARK. She was strapped into the seat of a ship that was no longer attached to her home. She was stranded in a pod that had launched itself from the ARK, and she had no idea where its intended location would be. Or if it even had one. 

A new wave of cold dread, like a bucket of ice, washed over Clarke. What if the pod had no destination? Or what if its destination was years away? She could be stranded in this pod, with no ability to see where she was going or any way to contact her parents. She could very well die in this pod. Either of starvation or oxygen deprivation, whichever came first. 

She didn’t even try to stop the hot tears as they rolled down her cheeks. She was going to die stranded somewhere in the cold deadness of space. Alone. And most likely painfully. All without telling her parents that she loved them one last time. 

The sobs racked Clarke’s small body as she curled into her blanket, shaking in fear. She was completely helpless. For the first time in her life she didn’t have an answer or a way out of something. This was the first time that she was truly stuck, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Clarke didn’t know if she had cried herself to sleep or if she had just stopped noticing the passage of time. It was hard to tell when suspended in the dark. But she was jolted from the numbness that had enveloped her with the deafening sound of something hitting the outside of the pod. Once, twice, three times. The banging went straight through Clarke, echoing around the pod. 

Once again, her heartrate spiked and her breathing became shallow. She didn’t know what the banging was but it was becoming more insistent and surely it meant nothing good. She tried to sit up, fumbling for the buckle on the belt that was keeping her in her seat. Whatever was banging the pod, sounded like it wanted to get in and she wanted to pretend she wasn’t as vulnerable as she felt. But there was nothing in the pod beside herself and the blanket she’d taken in with her. 

All of a sudden the banging stopped, Clarke could still hear it ringing in her ears. It was replaced by a great groaning and screeching noise, the sound of metal scraping against metal. With nowhere to go, Clarke curled up in her seat, eyes watching the side of the pod that the noise was coming from. 

All of a sudden a slither of light carved its way through the blackness of the drop ship. The light grew in size, until suddenly the entire cabin was bathed in a bright, glaringly harsh whiteness. Clarke blinked rapidly as her eyes tried to adjust. With the arrival of the light came cold. Clarke was used to the cold, the ARK was perpetually cool. But this cold was different from the highly regulated flow of air she’d experienced. This cold was biting, cutting straight to her bones and causing Clarke to shiver, her skin prickling. 

Still blinking, her teeth chattering, Clarke looked up at the gap in the pod’s wall as a shadow fell across her. The light blocking out whoever, or whatever, had pulled the pod apart. 

_“What is it?”_

_“It’s a girl.”_

Voices rang out through the cold, but they spoke in a language Clarke couldn’t understand, and they were rough and guttural. She withdrew further into the seat, with no where else to go, she tried to make herself as small as possible, to get away from the mysterious dark figures. But she had no where to run and when two large gloved hands reached inside the pod and grabbed hold of her arm and leg all she could do was struggle and squirm. Whoever grabbed her barely even acknowledge Clarke struggling, it was as if she weighed nothing. 

The figure pulled Clarke out of the pod and dropped her onto the ground. She barely even registered where she was before she scrambled to her feet. She needed to get away, that was all she could think. But she was barely even upright before she fell over again, this time her face hitting the floor. That was when she realised that the floor beneath her wasn’t made of the cold steel she was used to. It was still cold, but it was also soft. 

Clarke looked down at the ground in wonder, as she ran her hands across the snow covered surface. She marvelled at the cold, wet feel of it. At the breeze that lifted her hair across her face and prickled her flesh. At the sharp feel of icy air as it entered her lungs. Of the glare of the sun against her face and the plethora of sounds around her. She was on the ground.  
She was alive! And she was on the ground!

Suddenly she was lifted into the air and hauled backwards. Rough hands manhandled her until she was on her feet, standing shakily as two figures wrapped in leathers and furs, stood across from her. Both of them glowering down at the small girl in front of them with the shock of golden hair. Clarke watched them carefully, a man and a woman, both of their faces marked with raised scars across their cheeks and a diamond shape carved just above their temples. The woman had a knife clasped in her right hand, pointed towards Clarke. 

_“She fell from the sky, in that ball of fire.”_

_“I have the same eyes you do, Yala.”_

_“Shut up Gaylen, you know what I meant. Where do you think she came from?”_

_“I don’t know, but we should take her to Haiplana Nia”_

_“Agreed. But you can carry her.”_

Clarke watched the two speak, oblivious to what they were saying. She was shaking, either from fear or the cold, she wasn’t sure. But her initial wonder over being on the ground had dissipated the moment this threat had become apparent. 

“ _Where are you from girl? What’s your name?”_

Clarke could tell the man was talking to her, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying, so she stared back blankly.

 _“I don’t think she understands you, try Gonasleng_ ”

 

“What’s your name girl?” The man asked gruffly. Clarke started back in surprise, she hadn’t expected him to be able to speak English. They were still terrifying, but somehow knowing that she could communicate with the strangers in front of her acted as a calming balm. Clarke swallowed the lump of fear in her throat, wrapping her arms around herself as a barrier from the cold, and the threat. 

“My name is Cl-Clarke,” came her stammered response, her voice croaky and dry from her screaming and crying. The man and woman both looked at her strangely. 

“My name is Gaylen Kom Azgeda,” the man replied, turning towards his female partner, “she is Yala Kom Azgeda. Where are you from Clarke?”

Clarke didn’t know what to make of the couple in front of her. Their names were peculiar, as was the way they dressed, carried themselves and spoke. She was also terrified of them, of being on the ground. Because she wasn’t meant to be here. The ground wasn’t habitable, it was full of radiation. Humanity couldn’t survive on the ground. They’d all been taught that. But there were people, down on the ground. And they were alive. And they spoke English. And now she was down on the ground. 

She still hadn’t answered the man, Gaylen’s, question. He wanted to know where she came from. But how was she supposed to explain that? Somehow, Clarke didn’t think that they would accept, or even understand, about what the ARK was. What if she told them she came from the sky and they thought she was mad? What if it made them angry? They could both easily overpower her, and they both had knives and other weapons strapped to their person. 

Clarke hadn’t even known there were people on the ground. Whatever society they had formed here was obviously far more primitive than what she had known on the ARK. The fact they had so many weapons suggested they were prone to violence, Yala still clutching her knife firmly only reinforced this observation. One wrong move, and her time on the ground could be very short lived. 

Yala and Gaylen looked at each other and then back at Clarke. “ _Does she not understand? She spoke Gonasleng before,”_

_“No, she understands. She’s scared.”_

Clarke grew more nervous as they went back to speaking in the unknown language. Without knowing what they were saying, the fear over her own fate only seemed to grow. They could be plotting to kill her. Her chest heaved as her breathing became shallow, that feeling of panic clawing at her throat again. 

The strangers looked at each other again. Gaylen’s eyes grew wide as he recognised the little girl in front of him begin to become agitated and panic. But it was Yala who stepped forward, grabbing hold of Clarke’s wrist before she had the chance to run off. She squatted down until she was eye level with the child, locking eyes and taking hold of her other wrist, trying to keep her grounded. 

“Child, look at me.” Yala said, her voice firm and authoritative, causing Clarke’s focus to snap completely to the woman in front of her. “Breathe. We won’t hurt you. So breathe child.”  
Whilst Yala’s voice was cold and her tone harsh, it somehow worked to calm Clarke down. Taking in deep ragged breaths, unable to break eye contact. “Are you good?” Yala asked as Clarke’s pupils returned to a normal size and her heartrate slowed. She shakily nodded, receiving a curt nod in return. 

Yala drew back to full height and glanced towards Gaylen who’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, Yala was never one to be gentle but that display was the most caring he’d ever seen her be. 

“Now, Clarke, tell us where you are from.” Yala commanded.

Clarke wetted her lips, ringing her hands together, she still shook but not as violently as before. There was no escaping the question, or the inquisitive stares. “I’m from the ARK” Clarke said softly, receiving blank stares, as neither of the adults understood what she said. “The sk-sky,” Clarke stammered, certain they would think her mad, “I lived in the sky”. 

Yala and Gaylen looked equally confused. “What do you mean, you lived in the sky? We do not understand. What clan are you from?” Gayle asked, whilst Yala eyed her suspiciously.

Clarke had expected confusion. It was obvious these people didn’t have the same level of technology as she was used to. But she also didn’t know how to explain what she actually meant in a way to make them believe her. And she definitely didn’t know what they meant when they spoke about a clan. She chewed her lip and looked between her feet and the people in front of her. 

“Space. I lived in space, in the sky. I fell, it was an accident...” Clarke stated again, gesturing to the sky above her as she spoke, “I think it was an accident” she said to herself quietly, thinking for the first time since exiting the pod about how she actually managed to land on the ground at all.

“You fell?” Gaylen asked, “from the sky? Where you lived?” He didn’t know whether he should laugh at the absurdity of the what the girl was saying, or restrain her for being mad. 

But the disbelief the pair were expressing, only seemed to make Clarke angry. She hated when people called her a liar, or didn’t take her seriously just because she was child. “Yes.” Clarke’s voice was firm for the first time, her face drawn into a scowl. She wasn’t going to back down.

Yala respected the girl’s sudden confidence. It showed a strength of the character that she had assumed was non existent before. Azgeda regarded strength above all characteristics, aside from loyalty. And despite how crazy her story of falling from the sky sounded, it wasn’t for her to decide the girl’s fate or credibility.

_“We should take her to Haiplana Nia”_

Gaylen turned toward Yala, glancing back at Clarke for a brief moment first. “ _I don’t know if she will come willingly.”_

_“I don’t expect her to. But you can carry her.”_

Clarke tensed when they turned to look at her. Once again, they were talking about her but she couldn’t understand and it put her on edge. They’d reached a decision and that made her nervous.

Gaylen tried to smile as he looked at Clarke, but it was forced and made her even more tense. “Clarke,” His voice was quiet, obviously trying to be unthreatening, but it was still gruff and sounded foreign to her ears, “We’re going to take you to the Haiplana.” 

Clarke nodded her head, she didn’t know what a ‘Haiplana’ was but she knew she couldn’t argue with either of them. They were a lot stronger and would win any fight without a doubt. Besides, it was inevitable that if they weren’t going to kill her they would take her somewhere else. But ever since she got into that pod she had lost all control and that scared her more than the knife in Yala’s hands.

“W-what are you going to do to me?” She asked timidly, the fear seeping out of every pore.

“That is for the Haiplana to decide,” came Yala’s curt response. Clarke could barely even nod in agreement, whoever this Haiplana was she now held Clarke’s fate in her hands and the feeling that settled over her at this thought was an ominous one. But once again, there was nothing she could do about any of it. 

Gaylen stepped forward, approaching Clarke. He was unsure of how to go about picking the child up. If he was slow and gentle it would give her time to lash out or run away, but if just snatched her up from the ground then she could panic again like she did before. But the impatient huff from Yala made his decision for him, she wasn’t going to suffer any sentimentality on his part. Clarke tried to back away but she was still unsteady on her feet and when Gaylen grabbed her around the waist, depositing her across his shoulder in one deft move there wasn’t much she could do. She weakly tried to protest, hitting his back and kicking her feet, but one large hand rested across her ankles holding her legs still. 

“Put me down.” Clarke demanded, but the sound was muffled from her face pressed into his shoulder, and the pair ignored her indignant cries as they turned from the drop pod and Clarke’s only marker of home. 

They did not walk for long before stopping. From the angle over Gaylen’s shoulder all Clarke could see was the snow covered ground and the odd shrub or bush. Suddenly Clarke’s equilibrium was thrown off once again as she was lifted from Gaylen’s shoulder and deposited across the back of an animal. 

Clarke started at the feel of the beats beneath her. She could see its breath come out in great puffs of air in front of her as it tossed its head. Looking about her Clarke saw Yala mount what she presumed was a horse, only having seen pictures of one in books at school, only Yala’s animal had scars littered across its neck and a deformed jaw. Gaylen mounted his own horse, settling behind Clarke, both resting on the grey furs strapped to the animal’s torso. 

With a toss of their heads and a loud snort the beasts took off. Trotting across the snow, headed towards a knot of trees ahead of them. Clarke gripped the horses neck tightly, terrified and full of unease at the great swaying motion of the animal. Her eyes watered as the icy wind whipped her hair around her face and bit into her cheeks. She had temporarily forgotten the cold because of the fear at her situation but now that the initial panic had subsided she began to shiver with a vengeance. She had never experienced a cold so fierce, her breath had never been visible to her before. In fact, Clarke had never experienced any extreme of temperature before, everything on the ARK had been so strictly regulated. 

Noticing her shivering, Gaylen reached down and pulled a fur out of his saddle bag, leaning forward to wrap it around Clarke’s shoulders. The girl gripped the fur tightly, struggling to mutter a “thank you” out between her chattering teeth. Her fingers were stiff as she tugged the fur closer, burying her chin into the warmth it exuded. It took more skill than she thought necessary to grip both the fur and the horse, terrified she was going to fall. 

But, eventually Clarke either warmed up, adapted to the conditions or actually got the hang of being on a horse, because she stopped thinking so much about the possibility of falling off and began to take in the world around her. They raced through both densely wooded areas, thick with tall dark trees and moss covered rocks, and white open fields. They passed between two great sides of white tipped rock, hoisting a smattering of trees. They passed alongside a river with great sheets of ice floating across its surface and the tops of fresh green shoots breaking their way through the ice encrusted soil to soak up the sun that seemed to reflect off every surface in a harsh white light. 

At first, all Clarke could hear was the great rush of the wind in her ears and the sounds of the horses feet against the hard ground. But slowly she noticed other sounds; the rushing of the river, the howling of the wind through the trees, the sharp cries of all sorts of birds that she had no hope of identifying, she even swore she heard the howl of a wolf. 

Despite her precarious position aback Gaylen’s horse, on her way to meet whoever would seal her fate, Clarke marvelled at the ground and how amazing it truly was. She had never thought she would get to feel the sun on her skin, or breathe fresh air. The ground was ever present on the ARK but perpetually out of reach. But, here she was, experiencing it first hand, and it far exceeded any hope or expectation she could ever have. Regardless of the terror that still gripped her insides with an iron first at the thought of what Yala and Gaylen would do to her when she reached their destination. 

Eventually they began to slow their pace, and whilst the trees around them were still thick, Clarke could see that the ground they were treading on was a well worn path. She felt Gaylen draw up to his full height behind her, and when she looked across at Yala she could see that the woman was tense. When they left the woods they were travelling through the path they were on wound around the edge of a great open field. A field containing the first people, other than Yala and Gaylen, that Clarke had seen. These people were farmers, and they were leading great big animals through the fields, with wooden ploughs (like the kind Clarke had read about in medieval history books), churning up the hard snow covered ground ready for the start of the season’s planting. A few of these people glanced up at them as they passed but they were all too engrossed in what they were doing to pay them too much attention. 

At the far end of the great field was another great expanse of rock like the one they had passed through earlier. Only this mountain had great wooden and iron gates littering the side, each with guards standing post outside. Clarke’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of the warriors, all dressed in grey, white and black furs, similar scars as Yala and Gaylen marring their faces, carrying spears and other weapons. 

Yala led them up to a smaller gate, wide enough for a small cart to pass through. She drew herself up to her full height, a fierce scowl settling on her face as she approached the guards, refusing to dismount from her horse. 

_“State your name and business_.” The voice of a guard rang out, speaking in the same language that Yala and Gaylen did. 

_“Yala kom Azgeda, we have information for Haiplana Nia about the great ball of fire that landed near Rhondda_.” Yala’s voice was confident and firm, giving off the aura that she was someone of importance and that the guards should take her seriously. 

Accepting Yala’s business as being of importance the guards stepped aside and opened the gates before them. Yala and Gaylen drove the horses forward and through the gates, Clarke could feel the guards staring at her as they passed, she drew further into the fur wrapped around her. Once through the gate Clarke looked up again to see they were inside a tunnel carved into the mountain, lit by torches placed in intervals along the tunnel walls. The sounds of the horses hooves echoed around them as they made their way through the heart of the mountain. Joined by the whistling of the wind.

The mountain was deep. The tunnel long and cold with damp. At several points the tunnel branched off in various directions, each new path a different width from the last, all lit by the same sconces. Clarke could identify no discernible markers that told which direction they were headed. Neither Gaylen or Yala spoke, leaving Clarke to wonder where exactly they were taking her. The inside of the mountain was a maze. Yet another defence against enemy invaders.

Eventually Clarke began to hear sounds other than the horses and her own breath. They started off faint but soon grew. The sounds of life emerged as light began to seep into the dark passageway. They were nearing the end. 

Having become used to the darkness, their emergence from the tunnel was abrupt. Clarke blinked rapidly at the bright white of the winter sun as she was suddenly bombarded with a cacophony of voices. As she looked about her she saw dozens of people, operating stalls, pulling carts, riding horses, walking. All of them living on the other side of the great mountain.

All the people in front of her bore the same diamond shaped scars as Yala and Gaylen, all dressed in greys and blacks, furs wrapped tightly around them. And nearly every one of them, aside from very small children, had at least a knife strapped to their thigh. A constant presence throughout their lives. 

They were paid no attention as Yala and Gaylen wove their way among the people around them. Clarke, still clutching at the fur around her, couldn’t take her eyes off of her surroundings. There weren’t just people on the ground. There were people and they were thriving. They had buildings and trade and a community. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There were no obvious sources of electricity or any form of technology, but these people were still alive. In a world that she had been taught would be a wasteland. 

Clarke noticed that they were beginning to ascend. She noticed that as they began to walk uphill, the amount of people around them dwindled. There were fewer people milling about in the streets of the settlement. There were still multiple structures but none of them as busy as the one’s closer to the mountainside. She also noticed that the ordinary people were replaced with what she assumed were guards or soldiers. All of them more muscular, covered in more scars with scowls on their faces and heavy weaponry in hand. They watched the horses and their riders with suspicious gazes. 

Up ahead, at the crest of the hill, was another mountain. Cut into its face was a great stone fortress. Carved directly into the rock, the fortress was several stories high. Guards on the parapets and at the entrances. It was a large grey imposing structure. Whoever the Haiplana was that Yala and Gaylen were taking her to resided there, and was someone of importance.  
As they reached the front of the fortress, Yala dismounted, leading her horse by the bridle towards the guards at the door. Gaylen also dismounted, lifting Clarke down to the ground after him, but stayed several paces back.

 _“We seek an audience with Haiplana Nia. Tell her we have brought her something from the great ball of fire that landed at Rhondda.”_ Yala’s voice rang out loudly, summoning several guards forward. They eyed the small group warily for a moment before one stepped forward. 

_“Give us your horses and leave your weapons at the gate. You may enter and wait for Haiplana Nia to see you.”_

Clarke watched as Yala, and then Gaylen, handed over their knives and other weapons to one of the guards whilst another led their horses away. The gates to the fortress opened, a guard leading Yala forward. Gaylen placed a heavy hand on Clarke’s shoulder, guiding her forward behind his partner, whilst reminding her once again of how vulnerable she truly was.  
She followed along submissively, very much aware that she was severely outnumbered and most likely wouldn’t make it five steps before someone caught up with her. But her heart was pounding in her chest and her palms were sweaty and whilst the rational part of her brain reminded her that so far Gaylen and Yala hadn’t done anything to hurt her, she was still gripped with a chilling fear that she was willingly walking towards her death. And once inside the fortress walls there would be nothing she could do to stop it. 

As she stepped across the threshold into the fortress, Clarke held her breath. She didn’t know what she expected to happen, but to her it felt like that single doorway marked a significant change in her life, somehow a change more important than her actually falling from space. 

The soft soles of Clarke’s shoes were relatively quite across the stone floor in comparison to the heavy fur covered boots that everyone around her wore. Inside the fortress was almost as cold as outside, only lacking the bite of the wind. The walls hewn of rough stone taken directly from the mountain, and once again the dark space were lit by sconces. The great doors opened into a single, long corridor which led them deeper into the mountain. Clarke followed Yala into the bowels of the fortress with Gaylen’s hand still firmly on her shoulder. 

The long corridor opened up into a foyer, a great open space with several passageways branching off. The guards led the group down on of these passageways. Clarke started as her feet stepped off of the hard stone floor and onto a blanket of fur, a fur which when she looked down to examine was the skin of a great black bear, its head facing her, maw open and eyes glassy. She stumbled back in shock and horror into Gaylen’s great barrelled chest. Her heart racing. She’d never even imagined an animal as large as this fur. But here it was, sprawled across the floor, dead, for everyone to walk on. Its teeth yellowed and sharp. 

Gaylen let out a deep chuckle, his chest rumbling against Clarke’s back, at the small girl’s horror. No Azgeda child would be scared of such a sight. It was almost novel at how frightened and naive the little girl was.

Yala and the guards didn’t share his amusement, pushing them onwards with impatience. Clarke stumbled over the bear skin, glancing back to look at it in horror once more as they made there way down the corridor. 

They didn’t walk for much longer before they reached another great door. Two more guards were standing either side of it, drawing up straighter and gripping their spears tighter as the group approached. 

_“These people wish to see Haiplana Nia_ ” The voice of the guard leading the group announced, “ _They say they have something to show her about the flying ball of fire in Rhondda.”_  
For the first time since arriving, Yala shifted uncomfortably. Her face remained steadfast but she was worried that the Kwin would think them to be wasting her time and she did not want to be punished for doing so. 

The guards at the door gave no indication whether her fears were justified or not. One simply gave a curt nod in understanding before slipping through the door and into the room on the other side. He was gone for what felt like an age, but was most likely only a few minutes of awkward silence. Clarke shifted on the balls of her feet, crying increasingly agitated. The fear bubbling up as the lack of action gave her more time to think about all the possible outcomes of what was to follow. 

Eventually the guard returned, eyeing the group carefully before opening the door in front of them fully, “ _The Haiplana will see you”._

As the door opened, they were ushered forward by the guards. Clarke couldn’t help but marvel at the expanse of the room. Also made all out of stone, the chamber they now entered was far grander than Clarke expected. Sconces lined the walls at regular intervals, providing flickering light into the great carvings engraved into the stone. Clarke didn’t know what the symbols and pictures represented, but she could admire their beauty and also recognised the fear they struck in her. The walls were also lined with great furs of bears and wolves and other ferocious animals that Clarke couldn’t identify from books. 

The floor was lined with several thick grey and white furs stitched together to make a singular column that stretched all the way from the doorway to the raised stone dais that sat at the end of the great hall. Behind the dais a great fire was roaring away, providing the chamber with such warmth that it was almost overbearing. Clarke could feel the sweat prickling at the back of her neck. Her mouth grew dry and once again her heart rate spiked as she looked at what was sat on the dais.

A great throne, carved out of stone and draped in thick grey and white furs held the imposing figure of a woman. Fair hair drawn back from her face in tight, intricate braids. Snow white furs and a blade as black as the night Clark had spent her life staring out into twirling between her fingers as cold grey eyes and thin pursed lips looked down upon the people in front of her. To her right stood a tall dark-haired young man, an equally as severe look on his face, whilst on her left stood a young girl, only a few years older than Clarke. Several guards littered the base of the dais, creating a barrier between the queen and her subjects. 

As they reached the dais, Yala and Gaylen dropped to one knee, bowing their heads. Gaylen pushed Clarke down with him so that she was no longer looking at the Kwin but instead the stone floor.

 _“Why do you wish to speak to me?”_ The woman’s voice rang out around the stone chamber, loud and clear. 

Yala cautiously chanced a glance up at her Kwin. Looking quickly towards Gaylen, his hand still firmly on Clarke’s shoulder as she knelt between them, before wetting her lips. _“My name is Yala kom Azgeda, my partner Gaylen and I are from the village of Rhondda. We found something that we felt you would want to know about.”_

Nia raised a single eyebrow. Yala’s response had been vague and whilst she refused to show any true emotion, or risk giving anything away, she had heard about the great ball of fire that had fallen from the sky from countless sources but none had been able to give her anything of value. But these people had come from Rhondda, the Azgeda village closest to the flaming ball. She wanted to know any and all information she could, she needed to know to be able to get ahead of the other clans. To keep Azgeda strong.

 _“What did you find?_ ” Nia asked, watching her people in front of her carefully. 

_“Her.”_ Yala’s voice was hard, and authoritative. Turning to look toward Clarke. Gaylen looked up and locked eyes with his partner, her tone was harsher than he had expected it to be. Clarke was a child, not some prize they had won in a raid. 

Nia’s eyes flickered to the girl beneath her. She was small and looked weak. She didn’t understand how she could be useful or important, or how she could have information about the great ball of fire. Nia lent back in her chair, giving off the air of boredom. “ _And who_ ,” Nia asked slowly, “ _I_ _s she_?”

_“She says her name is Klark and she fell from the sky.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try my best to update every sunday :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke gets to meet Roan and Ontari

**Chapter 3**

 

 

Clarke heard words flying between Yala and the figure on the dais but since approaching the fortress, everyone spoke in that language that sounded guttural and so foreign to her ears. Her hands shook, and a lump formed in her throat. If she thought she had been scared before at the appearance of Yala and Gaylen, the woman in front of her was the most intimidating figure she had ever seen. Chancellor Jaha had nothing on this woman, not even her mum made her as terrified, and Abby could be scary when she wanted to be.  

 

She was too scared to actually look up at the dais, and Gaylen’s hand on her shoulder was another reminder that really, she didn’t have any autonomy in this situation. But instead of looking at the woman in the chair, Clarke cautiously eyed the girl standing to her left, to find the girl staring back at her. Her dark eyes hard and unblinking.   

 

She was only a few years older than Clarke, but where Clarke was blonde this girl had dark hair, pulled back from her face in braids. Clarke eyed the end of one her braids, a snow-white feather dangling from it. A small scar slashed across her chin. The defiant set of her jaw and her hand clasped firmly around the blade strapped to her hip gave the illusion that this girl was a threat, but there was something to her that made Clarke question that view. She wasn’t as hard and battle worn as the other people around her and she didn’t possess the same imposing air that the woman on the throne and the man standing to her right seemed to embody fully.  

 

Clarke’s attention was snapped away from the girl and towards Yala at the sound of her name. She’d known they were talking about her but hearing her name made it real. The woman lifted a single brow and looked down at the child on her knees in front of her. Nia pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side in contemplation.  

 

_ “She fell from the sky?”  _ Nia didn’t quite know what to think. Surely her people knew better than to come to her with some childish story about little girls falling from the sky. Her people knew she didn’t suffer fools. And it was because she knew her people feared and respected her that made her question her initial reaction that these people were wasting her time.  

 

“ _ We found her where the great ball of fire landed. She told us she fell from the sky,”  _ Yala’s previous assertiveness was beginning to waiver at Nia’s scepticism. If things went downhill then all their lives were at risk and she didn’t bring this child all the way to the queen to be executed for it.  

 

Nia just nodded her head once. Turning all her attention to the child. Her eyes roaming over her unmarked face, she had never seen hair so bright before. Nia also took in the girl’s clothes, besides from the fur the child gripped tightly, she was not dressed for the harsh of the Azgeda winter, nor the camouflage of the Trikru, or the sandstorms of the Sankru. She wasn’t dressed like any clan. Whoever this girl was she had done a remarkably good job of concealing her people.  

_ “What is your name and where are you from?”  _ Nia asked the girl, trying to feign indifference. Clarke felt eyes on her and looked up to meet them. She stared back at the woman on the throne, aware that it was likely she had been spoken to, but once again she couldn’t answer.  

 

Sensing the rising tension as Clarke refused to answer Nia, Gaylen couldn’t help but to blurt out, “ _ She only speaks Gonasleng”.  _ His eyes widened in panic when he realised he had spoken out of turn, but Nia bared it no mind.  

 

The new information renewed her interest in the child. What child did not know the language of the land, but did speak the warrior’s tongue. This child was an enigma, and one that Nia wanted to harness one way or another.  

 

“What is your name child?” Nia tried again, this time in Gonasleng. Her stare boring straight through Clarke, making her feel even smaller and more vulnerable than previously.  

 

“I-I... My-my name is Clarke Griffin,” she stammered, her voice quiet in her fear. She wanted to make herself as small as possible so that she could be ignored, but that wasn’t going to happen. Clarke gave her full name because back on the ARK being the daughter of Jake and Abby Griffin often helped get her out of trouble, and foolishly she was clinging to it having the same effect here.  

 

“Clarke Griffin, what clan are you from?” Nia’s voice rang out, unlike her two subjects, she was not afraid to find more persuasive tactics to get the truth from the girl, but first she wanted to see if those methods were necessary.  

 

Clarke’s eyes widened slightly in panic. Gaylen had previously asked her about a clan but she hadn’t known what he had meant and the question had gone unanswered. But now she was being asked again, and she doubted she could avoid it a second time. She didn’t know how to respond, if she told the truth then they may think she was mad, but if she lied and got it wrong, or even if she didn’t, that might result in her getting into some serious trouble.  

 

It was clear the woman was not used to waiting, and Clarke would have to answer soon. She had no one to guide her, not anymore, and she cursed all the times she had spat her mother’s advice back in her face. Claiming that she didn’t need Abby’s help because she could work things out on her own. Right now, in this unknown place, she wished for her mum’s hand to guide her. But that was impossible because both of her parents were back in the sky, and she was here on the ground. She had to rely on herself, and herself only.  

 

Clarke clenched her jaw, looking directly towards Nia. She had made up her mind, she wasn’t going to give in to the fear that had been gripping her throat since the moment she was pulled out of the pod. She was going to be strong. She was going to be herself. She was going to be the girl that fell from the sky, even if they thought her mad, they couldn’t take away who she truly was.  

 

Having steeled herself towards the possible consequences of her actions, Clarke felt better about talking to Nia. “I don’t know what a clan is.” Her voice rang out clear, although a little high-pitched, the ball of anxiety still present despite her attempts to banish it, “but I am the daughter of Jake and Abby Griffin.” 

 

Nia was a little taken aback at the change in the girl’s demeanour, when first asked her name she had been timid, retreating into herself. But within a moment, something had changed, as she no longer backed away from Nia, but instead held fast. She was seeing the same courage and fortitude that Yala had first spotted upon finding Clarke. It added to her intrigue over the girl. “Well, daughter of Jake and Abby Griffin, if you do not have a Clan, then where do you come from?”  

 

Clarke drew in a breath, now was the time to see if they believed her or not. “I lived in the sky,” whilst Nia’s face remained impassive, both the man and girl standing either side of her showed different degrees of reaction to her statement. It was one thing to hear the two villagers say it, but to hear it come from the girl herself with so much conviction made it real.  

 

“And where, do tell, did you live in the sky?” Nia asked, her voice evenly measured. Part of her couldn’t believe she was even entertaining such a nonsensical story, but the great ball of fire suggested that something must have caused it. And apparently this girl was it.  

 

“On a spaceship, called the ARK,” Clarke doubted they would know what a spaceship was, but she didn’t quite know how she could explain it in a way that they would understand. Nia didn’t say anything, she just looked at Clarke with raised brows. She was waiting for Clarke to continue and provide more information.  

 

“I-I fell. I wasn’t meant to, but there was some sort of accident and I fell, and landed here.” The more she said it aloud, the higher chance she had of convincing herself that it was just a freak accident that had sent her to the ground. But she would never be able to know for sure how she got here.  

 

“And when you fell, did you cause the great ball of fire?” Nia was completely unreadable and it infuriated Clarke that she still couldn’t tell whether or not she was being taken seriously or not.  

 

Clarke chewed her lip in thought for a moment over the question. Drawing on the knowledge she had gained from school and her dad about space flight. “I did not cause it on purpose,” Clarke started, suddenly worried that the heat from her re-entry might have damaged land, “but when the pod I was in broke through the earth’s atmosphere it would have gotten hot enough to cause the fire.” 

 

Nia drew back into her seat, thinking over everything the girl had said. It wasn’t hard to see that this child wasn’t a threat to Azgeda, but she was also very interesting.  She could be a useful tool against the other clans if she had any information that could be used against them, and if not, well she was a unique individual and Nia did like to own things that others may covert. It gave her power.  

 

She turned her attention back towards Yala, and Gaylen in association, both of them still kneeling before her diligently. They’d done their duty in delivering the girl to her directly. They were loyal servants to Azgeda, showing her once again that her people were dedicated. 

 

_ “Thank you for bringing this to me. I will see that both you and your village are rewarded for the information. You can both go.”  _ Nia stated coolly, waving her hand in dismissal. She watched as both of her subjects stood up, bowing their heads to her and Roan before turning and leaving the hall.  

 

Clarke started, and watched both Yala and Gaylen leave forlornly. Whilst they hadn’t exactly been welcoming, they hadn’t been cruel to her, and Gaylen had even seemed to have cared about her wellbeing. It felt silly to be sad that they had left her behind. She didn’t mean anything to them and they didn’t owe her anything, but they were a more familiar presence than the cold woman before her.  

 

Nia cleared her throat, causing Clarke to turn her attention back towards her. She tried not to show the fear she was feeling about being left alone on her face, but she wasn’t sure how well that was going. Nia still remained infuriatingly impassive.  

 

“ _ Take her to one of the rooms in the East Tower, do not let anyone enter without my permission.” _ As Nia spoke once again in their own language, two guards moved towards Clarke. Her heart spiked as they approached her, but she was determined to maintain an appearance of strength and to hide her fear.  

 

Taking a deep breath, Clarke stood to her full height when the guards reached her, she didn’t break eye contact with Nia until they grabbed her upper arms and turned her away from the dais. As she was escorted out of the hall Clarke could hear Nia talking to who she assumed was the man that had been standing to her right. But still unable to understand them she tuned out the sounds of their voices and focused instead on taking in her surroundings.  

 

The guards led Clarke through a different part of the fortress than she had entered. Eventually they reached a staircase. Even something as simple as stairs was so vastly different here on the ground then they had been on the ARK. She was used to metal grates that had always been met with a strict warning not to run by her mother, else she was at risk of slipping through the gap between the stairs and breaking her leg. Here the stairs were wide and heavy, made out of thick stone blocks, much like the rest of fortress.  

 

The higher they climbed the colder the air grew. Clarke shuddered into the fur Gaylen had given her as they passed by an open slit carved into the stone wall. She caught a glimpse of the mountain and the town they had passed through and felt the icy bite of the wind. Eventually they stopped climbing and her guards led her down yet another stone corridor lined with wooden doors and sconces on the walls.  

 

Reaching a door, Clarke was led into a small and bare room. Adorned with only a small wooden bed frame with a few furs covering it and a single stool. The room was dark, the light that filtered through the gaps in the wooden shutter over the window, captured the dust motes that floated listlessly in the air. Overall, it was a cold and drab space, and as the door slammed shut behind her, Clarke realised that now it was her cold and drab space.  

 

She let out a sigh that she didn’t know she’d been holding as she sunk onto the bed, lumpy beneath the roughness of the furs (unlike the softness of the fur Gaylen had given her). A choked sound forced its way out of her throat. Followed by another, and another. Until Clarke found herself crying.  

 

Sitting on the bed in the bare room, Clarke allowed herself to actually think of home and her precarious position on the ground since she had first been pulled out of the pod. When Yala and Gaylen had found her, all her thoughts of her situation had been influenced by what was happening to her in that moment. But now that she was on her own she fully realised the magnitude of her situation. Accident or not that had caused her to plummet down to earth, there was no way she would ever be able to return to the ARK. She didn’t know to pilot the drop pod to get her back up into space, let alone how to find the ARK when she got there.  

 

She was stuck on the ground and that was something Clarke was going to have to accept. The main question swimming through her mind was for how long? She didn’t know what Nia wanted from her and that uncertainty was scary. She didn’t understand why Nia was so interested in her, why she had put her into this tiny and cold room. She was just a child, she didn’t have anything to offer her, except from the fact that she had never lived on the ground. But maybe that was enough.  

 

It was with that thought that Clarke had a moment of clarity. Her teachers had always called her precocious, other children said she was too smart and spoilt, her mum always said she was too strong-willed and stubborn, and her dad – well her dad said she was brilliant. Clarke had always doubted her father and taken everyone else with a pinch of salt, but in this moment, she made a decision. Nia may be keeping her around because she fell from the sky, but Clarke was going to give her a reason to keep her alive in the long run.   

 

She rubbed furiously at her eyes, trying to will the tears away. She gritted her teeth in determination. She was going to be strong and she was going to make it through this and she was going to prove to Nia that she was someone worth a life.  

 

Laying down on the bed, the furs rough against her cheek, she curled into a ball. Despite her determination Clarke couldn’t help but feel sorry for herself. She missed her mum and dad, she missed Wells, she even missed school. The fact that the last thing she had ever told her mum was that she hated her made her feel sick to her stomach. Her mum probably thought she was dead and that was the last thing she would hear her say. Did she even know that she was on the ground? Or did she think her daughter was just floating somewhere aimlessly in the blackness of space? 

 

But at the same time, she also found her mind wandering away from the ARK and the life she had been forcefully ejected from, and instead focusing on the ground and everything she had seen so far. It was truly amazing, feeling the air and seeing plants and feeling the sunlight. And even though she had interacted with only a handful of people, it amazed her how different from the ARK they were. Being on the ground was so vastly different from the world she had once dreamt of, but in many ways, despite the fear and the discomfort she had felt since landing, it was so much better than she could have imagined. She had experienced snow, and ridden a horse, and watched a hawk soar through the clouds.  

 

At some point Clarke must have drifted asleep because the sound of the door creaking and scraping across the stone floor startled her from her dream of flying through the clouds over green fields. She sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over her face to try and wake herself up more. Once upright she looked towards the door and was surprised to find the man that had been on the dais standing at the foot of the bed watching her cautiously.  

 

Noticing that Clarke had seen him, the man picked up the stool in the corner of the room and placed it near the foot of the bed. He sat down, watching Clarke. She noticed how his hand hovered over his knife beneath his fur coat. Feeling very self-conscious and aware that the presence of the knife was a very strong reminder of who was in charge she pulled herself upright, trying to keep her face impassive.  

 

After a moment of silence, with both parties apprising each other warily, the man feigned relaxation, leaning back but his hand still hovering over the knife. “I am Prince Roan; the Queen has sent me here to speak to you.” His voice was deep and level, never taking his eyes off of Clarke.  

 

Clarke couldn’t help but look surprised, this dark-haired man was the son of the icy woman. They seemed completely different, but she didn’t know anything about either of them at the same time. Clarke didn’t respond, she was unsure of what constituted the appropriate response so she chose to say nothing.  

 

“There’s been a lot of debate going on since your arrival. Our people seem pretty divided. Some of them think you’re lying, that you’re a Trikru spy, other’s think you are crazy.” Roan lips quirked up in a slight smile as he spoke, it worked to relax Clarke, despite his worrying words.  

 

“And you?” she asked, “What do you think?” 

 

Roan let out a light chuckle, “Me? Well I think you’re telling the truth,” Clarke’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I don’t fully understand your story. It may not even be accurate. But you believe you’re telling the truth and I can see that.” Roan was so open it was unnerving. She didn’t completely trust his candour.  

 

“It-it is true. I know it doesn’t sound real, but it is true.” Clarke waivered for a moment before coming through strong.  

 

“Explain to me how you lived in the sky,” Roan asked, “and maybe it’ll convince the queen that you are not a threat.” He made it sound so simple, so easy. As if all she had to do was tell him the story he wanted to hear and she would be out of danger. Somehow that didn’t feel real. But for Roan, she was just a little girl who had somehow landed herself in this situation. If she really was a Trikru spy then they were far worse than he thought, sending a child into enemy territory.  

 

Clarke tried to think over how she could explain the ARK to someone who had never even seen electricity. She knew relatively little about these people and so she didn’t know what they had experienced down on the ground. But her survival also hinged on her being able to successfully convince the queen’s son that she was telling the truth.  

 

Roan casually tapped his foot against the ground, it was like a timer, reminding Clarke that she only had so much time before she would be expected to answer. She was just going to have to go for it.  

 

“I lived on something called the ARK, it was a space station.” Clarke began, but almost instantly Roan look confused, “it was like a giant metal boat, that floated in the sky,” Clarke paused again, watching as Roan slowly nodded his head in understanding.  

 

“If this metal boat you lived on used to float in the sky, how come we have never seen it?” Roan asked slowly. He wanted to believe the girl, but it just didn’t seem real. If there was a floating metal boat in the sky then surely someone would have seen it before.  

 

Clarke chewed her lip, not quite sure how to explain the concept of space. She understood what it was, but her knowledge barely extended beyond the basic concept of knowing what the universe was. She knew nothing of the science.  

 

“It wasn’t in the sky, like the sky above our heads right now, it was beyond it. In somewhere called space.” Clarke winced at the weakness of her response, she doubted that her explanation was believable.  

 

Roan was having a hard time picturing something that existed beyond the sky, the sky was the furthest up you could go and the dead lands were the furthest west. His confusion must have showed on his face because Clarke continued speaking.  

 

“I know it’s not the easiest thing to understand, because you can’t see it from down here. But the earth is like a ball,” Clarke began to gesture whilst she spoke, “and around this ball there’s a layer and that layer is the sky that you can see from on the ground, right? Well the ball that’s the earth, that’s got to float in something, and the thing it floats in is this large black thing called space, where lots of other things float like the moon, right? 

 

“And well the ARK, where I lived, before, that was sent up to space from earth, by the people of the old world. And, well I think it was an accident, but I was in something called a drop pod, up on the ARK, and somehow, I don’t know how, I ended up being sent down here, to the ground.” Clarke stopped speaking, thinking once again about how she had managed to find her way down here. She twisted her hands together anxiously as she waited for Roan to respond.  

 

Roan mulled over Clarke’s words, trying to fully process everything that was being said. He nodded at various points, showing that he was listening. By the time Clarke had finished, he still didn’t fully understand what she had said. The idea that there was something beyond the sky, that the ground he was standing on was actually hovering in the air, was a concept that felt too big and heavy to just be able to understand in a few moments. But there was one part of what the child had said that stuck out to him.  

 

“You didn’t choose to come here? It was an accident that you ended up here, in Azgeda lands?”  

Clarke bit her lip for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I never meant to leave the ARK. We didn’t even think people could survive down here on the ground, I definitely didn’t choose to end up here.” 

 

“So you’re people aren’t going to follow you down to the ground? They are not looking to take over our lands?” This was the real reason that everyone had been so worried about Clarke’s appearance. Her arrival revealed that there was yet another clan that they would have to face to maintain their territory and resources.  

 

“What?! No!” Clarke exclaimed in a panicked voice, if that’s what these people thought she was here to do then she was more at risk than she thought.  “No one’s following me to the ground, well at least I don’t think they are. I mean.. well, they wanted to, that was always the plan... to one day return to earth, but not for a very long time.” 

 

Roan’s eyes narrowed as he watched her ramble through an explanation, suddenly doubting his previous belief that everything the girl had said had been the truth. “When do your people plan to arrive?” He asked slowly, deliberately, full of purpose. Running through possible battle strategies already.  

 

Clarke’s eyes had widened in her panic, she waved her hands frantically in front of her as if that would absolve Roan’s suspicion.  “Not for years, like years! As in, we will both be dead long before it happens!”  

 

Roan arched a brow, looking very much like his mother in that moment. He stared at the girl, making her squirm beneath his gaze. He held her there for several prolonged moments, thinking about all the implications of what she had said. Trying to decide if she was telling the truth or just trying to save herself.  

 

“I see.” Came his curt response after several minutes of Clarke’s heart thumping and her palms sweating. She had thought she was getting through to him, that he was believing her, that they would no longer see her as a threat. But now that sense of surety was starting to fade away.  

 

Roan stood up without speaking further and left the room, leaving Clarke with a sinking feeling in her stomach.  

 

She let out a sigh and collapsed back against the bed frame. For a moment she had thought she was making some progress with Roan, showing him that she wasn’t a threat and maybe even laying the groundwork to be able to ask if she could stay. Not that she knew enough about these people to know if she would even want to stay with them, but right now it seemed like the better option than being turned out once they were done with her. But now, she wasn’t so sure. She might have just done the opposite in discussing the ARK’s plan to return to the ground.  

 

Clarke rolled out of the bed, realising how stiff she was once on her feet. She wasn’t used to the level of cold that seemed to have permeated into her very bones.  Rubbing her hands together, she began to pace up and down the room. Stretching her legs in an attempt to get her blood flowing and her temperature back up.  

 

Everything about the ground was just so different from life in space. So far nothing had been the same, not the materials used around her, not the language, not the atmosphere, and most definitely not the people. It was all so much to take in and she just kept circling back to the thought that she wanted enough time to properly experience it. She wanted to learn about the world around her, she wanted to learn about their people.  

 

Clarke paced from one end of the room, walking until her she could touch the rough stone wall before turning back to do the same on the other side. As she walked she dragged her fingertips over the wooden bedframe, the furs lying across the bed, the smoothed top of the stool; all of them materials and surfaces she had never experienced before.  

 

She thought about the people she had come across so far. The ground was clearly a harsh and difficult place to live but it was so full of life. From the people working in the fields they’d ridden by; to the people selling their wares in the middle of the town; and the warriors, all adorned with weapons and battle scars, snow-white feathers braided into their hair. For the first time in her life Clarke truly longed for something. Some part of her that she didn’t even know existed, yearned to join these people. To be one of them. 

 

But as she realised this thought, Abby arose in her mind’s eye. Her mother would be both fascinated and horrified at the primitive way these people lived. Without electricity, or obviously sterile materials. The amount of scars and missing limbs Clarke had seen showed just how violent life here was. Her mum cared so much about helping others but she also cared a lot about making sure the image her daughter had presented to the rest of the world portrayed her as a sensible figure.  

 

Clarke felt very far away from sensible and safe. But she didn’t miss it. She missed her family and her friends, achingly so. But she didn’t miss the sterile and regulated world of the ARK. But thinking of the ARK reminded her of her conversation with Roan and how precarious her position was. If she hadn’t been able to convince him that she was telling the truth, or if he hadn’t been able to convince the queen then she was in a lot of danger.  

 

She hoped that he had believed her, but he gave very little away and despite the newfound longing in her chest, she knew nothing about these people or their society or their history. They may very well not even entertain the idea that she wasn’t a threat. And there was nothing she could do about that. There was nothing she could do about any of this, she was completely helpless and entirely at their mercy.  

Her unstructured vulnerability was terrifying.  

 

As Clarke felt her thoughts and worries begin to spiral she searched for a distraction. Her eyes settling on the window. Even just stepping closer towards it made her shiver, the drop in temperature apparent. She was still clutching the fur Gaylen had given her, as with one hand, Clarke reached out to remove the wooden shutter from the frame.  

 

Looking down and across at the town beneath the fortress, Clarke took in a deep breath of the icy air, shards prickling her lungs. It was truly amazing. The town beneath her. It was nothing like the towns and cities of the old world that she had seen in history books, built within the valley of a mountain range, using the wide rock structures as a natural defence.  All of the structures that she could make out from this height were built out of stone and rock hewn from the mountainside. Whilst most of the detail were obscured from such a distance, Clarke did notice various points of interest.  

 

Below the fortress, was an open space of land upon which Clarke could discern people moving around erratically. To the left of this open space was the structure that caught Clarke’s attention. From her position up high she could see into the centre of the building, its roof open and exposed to the elements. It was a deep sunken pit, the actual building surrounded all sides of the pits. It looked like some sort of spectator ring. Clarke couldn’t figure out what the people of the town went to watch there.  

 

There were other structures and buildings, all of which Clarke struggled to identify. The ARK was a singular structure, all connected. Nothing stood alone. It was so vastly different from the way this town was laid out.  

 

Eventually the cold grew too biting and Clarke had to draw away from the window, shivering whilst she desperately clutched at her fur. Finding herself tired she returned to the bed, burrowing herself under the brittle texture of the furs.  

 

Clarke found it difficult to determine how much time had passed since she had spoken to Roan, or since she spoke to the queen, or even since landing.  It was yet another difference between the ARK and the ground that she would have to become used to. Not having the ability to constantly check the time electronically, on the ground the passage of time wasn’t measured by a clock but by the sun and sky and the world around them.  

 

This time when Clarke heard the turn of a key in the lock, she became fully aware a lot quicker. Standing hurriedly from the bed and watching the door carefully, convinced that this was the moment she would find out whether she was going to die or not. She was determined to not go down without a fight. 

 

As the door opened, Clarke tensed, hands balling into fists. She was ready to spring into action, even whilst being acutely aware that she would have no chance against whoever came through the door. As the door closed, it revealed the girl from the dais. She held a tray in her hands as she looked around the room for Clarke. Finally spotting her standing by the bed, she placed the tray on top of the stool before standing back in the centre of the room, hand resting on the handle of her knife.  

 

The two girls stood, tense, watching each other. This wasn’t who Clarke had expected to appear after her talk with Roan. But even though the girl didn’t seem like much of a threat, that didn’t mean she wasn’t.  

 

“I brought food.” The girl suddenly spoke, still not taking her eyes off of Clarke. “Eat.” Her voice was rough for someone so young, and the way she spoke sounded off to Clarke, stilted.   

 

Clarke didn’t move for several moments, still eyeing the girl up. But she had been hungry for quite some time now. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate, but she was pretty sure it had been before she came to the ground. As she headed towards the tray, she could feel the girl’s eyes following her across the room.  

 

Clarke slowly sank to the floor, the stool being used as a table to hold the tray. She made sure to keep the girl in her line of sight as sat down. She looked over the tray of food in front of her, just the smell of something hot and edible was making her stomach rumble.  

 

Not really caring what it was she was eating, Clarke devoured the tray. The food provided was some kind of stew, but Clarke couldn’t identify the meat used, but she didn’t care. It was hot and so full of flavour, and even though the accompanying bread was just on the wrong side of stale, it still had more flavour than the bread the ARK had to offer.  

 

Clarke could feel the girl’s eyes on her as she ate, but she was too caught up in her meal to keep her vigilant watch and so she missed the way the girl’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at how eager Clarke was to eat yesterday’s leftovers.  

 

When she had finished eating she sat back, leaning on her hands. The girl had sat down on the bed, her hand still clutching the knife handle. She held herself in a similar way to how Roan had, only it seemed more forced than his casual posture, like she was actively working to maintain that image of herself.  

 

“Are you hear to kill me?” Clarke asked her suddenly, surprised at herself for being so blunt and for how little saying those words aloud seemed to scare her. Apparently the surprise was mutual if the girl’s expression was anything to go by. She looked at Clarke quizzically for a moment.  

 

“The queen has not wished for your death yet.” Came her reply, once again it was stilted.  

 

“Then what does the queen wish for?” Maybe it was because they were closer in age than Roan, but Clarke felt more confident in talking to the girl and less vulnerable.  

 

The girl titled her to head slightly in thought. “She wished for me to bring you food.” 

 

Clarke found herself smiling at the bluntness of the girl’s speech. “Ok, well thank you for the food.” The girl nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m Clarke by the way.” She didn’t know why she introduced herself, the girl probably already knew who she was.  

 

She watched as she shifted for a moment, clearly debating something. “My name is Ontari,” the girl tried to offer a smile as she spoke but it looked pained. Clarke matched it with one of her own.  

 

“It’s nice to meet you Ontari,” Clarke didn’t know why she was being so friendly, but she felt like she ought to. There was something about this girl, Ontari, that drew her attention. Maybe it was because they were similar ages, but they were also completely different.  

 

Clarke started as the girl suddenly stood up. She took the empty tray from the stool and headed towards the door without saying anything. She was so restricted, like one of the guards on the ARK. Clarke watched her go, a small smile gracing her lips. At least she wasn’t going to die, yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the ending is a bit weak but im building up to developing Clarke's relationship with Ontari and Roan some more in the next few chapters. 
> 
> Ill update next sunday, hopefully!   
> Hope you like it! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 

  
Clarke wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she had spoken to Ontari. The girl didn’t come back, instead unknown servants periodically brought Clarke food. They never spoke to her, just bringing in a tray, and coming back a while later to take it away again. Based on the amount of food she had been given, it had maybe been five days since she had been on her own in the tower. 

Being alone for so long meant Clarke had even more time to think. She’d run through all the possible scenarios as to why she was still being kept in this room. They ranged from the positive idea that maybe Nia believed her and was just testing her in some way, to the far more negative view that maybe there was a reason why they were postponing killing her. Either way, she tried not to dwell in any scenario for too long. 

But in the place of worrying, her family and the ARK were pushed further forward. Every time she woke up she wondered what her parents were doing, whether they knew where she was, or whether they thought she was dead. She missed listening to her dad try and explain what they were doing in the engineering department every morning over breakfast and him asking and examining her drawings. She even missed her mum nagging her about doing her schoolwork and always questioning what she and Wells were up to, to keep them out of trouble. 

The first few days when she woke up and thought of her family she was overwhelmed with her worry and upset and the longing to be back home in the sky. She’d started most of those days crying: pathetic little whimpers and hiccoughed sobs. But by now, when she woke, often after dreaming about her family, she was just met with a numbness. Clarke had shed more tears than she could count over her family but now it felt like she had nothing left to give. Even picturing her father did nothing more than cause a twinge in her chest. She was far from used to life on the ground, she’d barely even experienced it. But she had come to accept that this was her life, for as long as it lasted. There wasn’t much place for emotions amongst her solitude any longer. 

She felt caged and a little stir-crazy, but, despite the limited resources, she tried to keep herself entertained. It seemed so childish, and inconsequential in relation to everything that was going on around her. But she’d found a loose piece of light coloured stone, which, when she scraped it against the stone blocks that formed the room, left a feint mark. Upon discovering this she began to draw, rough little sketches of the things she saw on her way to the fortress: the plants and animals and the people. They were barely visible and very crude, but there was something about the action that was calming and helped to take her mind off the uncertainty. 

When the door opened today, Clarke put aside the piece of stone and stood up. Like she always did, she stood stiffly, hands in fists, by the bed, waiting for the servant to come and deposit the tray and then leave. But this time, when the door opened, two servants came in instead of just one. Clarke eyed this new development warily. One servant brought in the customary tray of food, the other followed behind carrying a pile of fabrics and a large jug. They left without saying anything. 

Clarke waited until she heard the door lock before tentatively approaching what had been left behind. She picked through the pile of fabrics, pulling out each piece and looking it over. She’d been left a change of clothes; warm fur lined trousers, a shirt, some weird leather waistcoat thing, and a thick fur coat. All the clothes were faded grey and black. The materials thick. Apparently buckles were a strong fashion statement here.  The jug contained warm water and there was a rag tucked into the handle. Someone wanted her to clean up and get changed. 

She hadn’t really expected an explanation, but it would have been nice to have been told what was going on. She put the clothes down and turned to the tray of food. She was going to make sure she ate first, then she’d see about changing. 

The air was so cold against her bare skin, it was a completely different feeling to the cold when she was dressed. Clarke tried to be as quick as possible, rolling back and forward on the balls of her feet to keep warm, as she washed herself. It was the first time since the morning before she left the ARK that she actually had the chance to be clean. The jug and rag were a far cry from the ARK’s showers, but it was better than nothing. She couldn’t do anything about her hair, there was no brush and not enough water to wash it so she had to leave it hanging limply, knotted like a bird’s nest. She momentarily attempted to run her fingers through it but that proved more painful than it was worth. Her mother would scold her if she could see the state of her daughter’s hair. 

She changed into the new clothes, but they hadn’t given her any shoes, so she pulled on her old canvas ones, her last vestige from the ARK. She ran her hands over the fur of the grey coat before putting it on. It provided much needed warmth and was almost as soft as the fur that Gaylen had given her. But Gaylen’s fur was more of a blanket and not as practical as the coat.   
She eyed her old clothes with disdain. They were dirty and disgusting and despite coming from her home, she had never been particularly attached to the ARK’s limited choice of shirt and trousers. Clarke left her old clothes in a pile on the floor, but took care to fold Gaylen’s fur neatly, placing it atop the bed. 

Because they had given her fresh clothes, Clarke assumed that that meant they would be coming to fetch her shortly, so she didn’t return to her drawing. Instead she sat on the end of the bed, her fingers twisting together as the realisation that being taken somewhere might be a bad thing rose to the forefront of her mind. She chewed her bottom lip, eyes keenly watching the door. 

She tensed when she heard a set of footsteps approach, but they carried on past her room. She didn’t know how long she waited, but it was quicker than she expected before she heard footsteps again. This time they did stop outside her door, followed by the sound of the key turning in the lock. 

Clarke stood up abruptly, hands balling into fists like usual. She held her breath in anticipation as the door swung open. Two guards entered; leather clad, knife on the hip, and the snow-white feather braided into the hair, the diamond shaped scar above the temple (just like every person she had come across, except from Ontari). 

They didn’t say anything. No one ever did. They just approached Clarke, grasping her by the upper arm and steering her out of the room. However, once in the corridor, they let go of her arm, but maintained their positions either side of her. Surely that was a good thing, they wouldn’t give her the possibility of running away if they didn’t somewhat trust her. 

It was silent, the only sounds the wailing of the wind through the fortress corridors and the beat of the guards boots again the stone flagged ground. Her memory wasn’t perfect, but Clarke was pretty sure they were going a different direction from the Great Hall that she had spoken to Nia in. She tried to pay attention to where they were going, but every corridor looked the same, so it was effectively hopeless. 

Eventually the guards slowed their pace as they approached a door, it was made of a different type of wood than the door to her room, closer resembling the doors to the mountainside and front of the fortress. But smaller. 

As it opened and they escorted her through Clarke could see why: she was finally outside again. Maybe she had grown used to it, but the wind wasn’t as biting as when she had first landed on the ground. But it was definitely still very cold. She gritted her teeth against the sudden drop in temperature. 

They walked across frost-bitten grass, full of dry brown patches. The cold seeping through into Clarke’s thin shoes that had been designed for the temperate and sterile climate of the ARK, not for the cold icy ground. 

The guards led her away from the fortress and towards an open patch of ground. There were not many people around, a smattering of odd pairs and trios, that seemed to be fighting. Wherever they were, it was some sort of training ground. 

They drew close to one pair, Roan and Ontari, and Clarke watched in fascination at the way Ontari twirled around Roan, striking out at him with her sword. Ontari seemed to have the upper hand, which amazed Clarke, until one well placed blow to the back of the legs sent her sprawling across the floor. 

_“You have to keep focus Ontari,”_ Roan commanded, his voice strong and firm, _“watch both your front and your back_.” Roan reached out a hand to help Ontari back to her feet but she swatted it away. She didn’t need his help, or anyone else’s, she could do this on her own. 

Roan, having seen the guards approaching from further back turned then, looking at Clarke standing between them. His face remained impassive but he was surprised with how well she suited the Azgeda clothing provided. Apart from the bright golden hair that was currently a mess, she could be any other Azgeda child. 

Ontari, noticing that Roan’s attention was elsewhere, also followed the direction he was looking. Her face fell into a confused scowl as she watched Clarke approach. She didn’t understand why the girl was being brought to Roan now, they were meant to be training, couldn’t he have dealt with his political duties later? 

Clarke eyed the two before her warily, apart from Ontari’s scowl, this didn’t seem like a particularly hostile environment. Yes, they were both carrying swords, but the atmosphere felt very different from in the Great Hall with Nia. They were both far more relaxed. 

_“We’ve brought the Sky Girl, Prince,_ ” One of the guards spoke to Roan, Clarke watched him even though she couldn’t understand what he was saying, “ _As per request of the Queen_.” 

_“Thank you_ ,” Roan spoke with much the same commanding voice as his mother, waving his hand in dismissal, “ _You may go_.” The two guards nodded their heads once before leaving the same way they had come. Clarke barely even gave them a glance as they left, a great wash of relief flowing over her. If the guards were leaving then it was less likely that something bad was about to happen. 

The three of them stood in silence for a moment, Roan and Ontari looking at Clarke, and Clarke looking between the pair. All tense, unsure of what the others wanted or might do. It was Roan who broke the tension. 

“Clarke, it has been decided that you are not a threat to the Azgeda people,” He started, his lips quirked up in a slight smile at the breath Clarke released. Ontari’s head snapped towards Roan, she hadn’t been told that Nia had reached a decision on the girl. She should have been told. “And at my behest, Haiplana Nia has agreed that I may train you in the ways of the Azgeda people.” 

Clarke was pretty sure her mouth fell open. Not only was she getting to keep her life, but she was going to be given the ability to become one of the Azgeda, of the people on the ground. She was being given a chance to survive. To have another chance at life, here on the ground. 

“ _Why_?” Clarke turned to look at Ontari as she let out a shocked sound, Clarke couldn’t understand her, but from her tone and the look on her face, she wasn’t pleased with what Roan had just told them. She was right, Ontari was angry that this girl was seemingly just being given a free pass. Ontari had had to work so hard to prove she was worthy of Nia’s son training her, despite being a night blood she had had to prove her worth. To get Nia’s attention. But this girl just fell from the sky and was handed the same opportunity that she had fought for. It wasn’t fair. 

Roan had expected this type of reaction from Ontari. She had a short fuse and a very strong belief that the world was unjust and out to get her, and whilst she wasn’t wrong, she didn’t always allow her intelligence to guide her on the correct way to act. She was too intelligent and skilled to just be cast aside. She was a lot like his mother, which was one of the reasons Nia had invested so much effort into the night blood girl. She was a useful tool. 

“Because she is strong, has knowledge none of us could imagine, and without someone to guide her she would be dead within days.” Roan made a point to reply in Gonasleng, he wanted to make sure Ontari knew that they were going to do everything they could to accommodate Clarke, and teach her how to be Azgeda. But replying in English also had the benefit of allowing Clarke to understand him and to reinforce to her that they had no intention of hurting her. Not now. 

Ontari just huffed in annoyance but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t fair that he was speaking in only Gonasleng because she was still learning, but she had to reason that the girl didn’t know any Trigedasleng and so only speaking in it would be cruel. They would both have to learn. 

Sensing that Ontari wasn’t going to say anymore on the matter, Roan turned his attention back towards Clarke. “There is a lot you’ll need to learn about being Azgeda, and whilst I am going to do my best to teach you, there are some things I will be unable to. The queen and I have spoken, and we both agree, that the best thing for you Clarke, is whilst I will try my best to teach you everything I can, we want you to follow Ontari as this will provide you with the best opportunity to learn how to be like one of us.” Clarke looked shocked, but that was nothing compared to the look on Ontari’s face. Roan had anticipated her reaction and so cut in before she could say anything. 

“Ontari, this is an order and not up for negotiation. You are to look after Clarke, she is to accompany you to all aspects of your training and to learn alongside you, she will be your responsibility. Until Nia believes she is ready to stand on her own, Clarke will be your shadow.” Roan made sure not to break eye contact with Ontari as he spoke, “ _Do you understand_?” He asked her in Trigedasleng to make sure he fully drove the point home. 

“Yes,” Ontari said with a scowl, her arms folded in front of her. She couldn’t look more like a petulant child if she tried. This was the worst thing she could have been told. She didn’t want to be some ignorant girl’s baby sitter, she was training to be a warrior not a wet nurse. 

Clarke on the other hand couldn’t have been more thrilled with the outcome. Granted, Ontari was terrifying and clearly not happy with her being here, but getting to train and learn how to be Azgeda, how to survive on the ground. That was what she had wanted. It had been the best case scenario (aside from going back home) and it was now a reality. And even though Ontari didn’t want her, she was close enough in age to Clarke for her to hopefully not treat her like a child. 

From somewhere deep within her, Clarke found a well of courage. Maybe it arose from her new found security. But she turned towards Roan with a determined glint in her eye. “So do I start now?” 

Roan chuckled at the girl’s eagerness, whilst Ontari just rolled her eyes. “Yes, we will start now Clarke,” came Roan’s reply, “How much fight training do you have?” 

Clarke looked at him blankly, “None. The only job on the ARK that required any type of physical training was a guard, and you couldn’t apply for that until you turned eighteen.” She informed them, once again becoming aware of how vastly different their people were. 

Ontari snorted, “Great. You’ve given me a little shrew of a thing who doesn’t even know how to fight and expect me to make her into Azgeda. Because that’s not an impossible task.” 

“Ontari! One of the marks of a true warrior, no, a true leader, of the Azgeda people is how well you can lead others. And training Clarke from the basics upwards will give you those skills.” Roan had slipped into his teaching voice; hard, firm and no room for argument. 

Ontari huffed in annoyance, but she also looked to the ground, aware that Roan was right. Training Clarke would benefit her in the long run and besides, it was what Nia wanted and she would do whatever her queen asked her to do. That was how she would become a good leader, treating everything as a lesson. 

She took in a deep breath to calm herself and help her focus. “Clarke, do you have any experience with any weapons?” Ontari asked, trying her best to maintain a neutral expression as Clarke shook her head. She didn’t really know where to begin with someone who knew nothing, all Azgeda children at least knew how to handle a knife, even those born to be farmers. 

Ontari and Clarke both looked towards Roan expectantly, as much as he may have said Clarke was Ontari’s responsibility, Ontari was still his, and so it was up to him to guide them. He looked about them for a moment, until his eyes fell upon the training sword. 

“Clarke, pick up that sword,” he nodded his head in the direction of the weapon, “lets see what comes naturally to you.” 

Clarke was cautious in her approach, slowly picking up the sword. It felt weird in her hand, heavy, cumbersome. Her fingers curling around the unfamiliar hilt as she lifted it up, trying to see if she could hold it out in front of her. The sword wobbled in the air, she struggled to balance it out in front of her, but when she held it so that it was almost upright, not horizontal, it felt more stable. Clarke was careful in turning back round with the sword in her hand, as she looked towards the two Azgeda, both of whom were watching her. 

Roan approached her, taking the sword and gently turning it round in her hand so that she had a better hold of the hilt. “Hold it like this, making sure you don’t grip too tightly, but not loose either,” Roan directed her, his voice surprisingly gentle. 

Clarke couldn’t help but smile at the feel of the weapon in her hand. It was odd and cumbersome, but it also felt comfortable. Like it was something she was meant to do. A sudden thought came to her mind, “What’s it called?” she asked. 

Roan furrowed his brow in confusion at her question. “What’s what called?” 

“The sword? In your language, what do you call it?” She asked again, if she was going to live on the ground and become Azgeda she was going to need to learn how to speak their language. 

“In Trigedasleng?” Roan was pleased with the girl’s curiosity and eagerness to learn. 

“Trigedasleng? That’s the name of your language?” Clarke asked, a smile breaking out on her face as she ran the sound of the word over her tongue, her voice filled with the spark of curiosity. Just saying it out loud made her feel closer to the ground. 

“Yes.” Ontari responded, rolling her eyes once again at the girl’s ignorance. Roan just shot her a warning glance, preventing her from saying anything else. 

“Yes, that is the name of our language.” His voice was kind when speaking to Clarke, “and the correct name for a sword is called Bleirona, but most people use Swis.” 

Clarke muttered the words to herself, trying to get the pronunciation right. It was strange, their language, when she didn’t know what they were talking about it sounded completely nonsensical, but when matching the words to objects there was something familiar to what they were saying. It was clear that English had had an influence. 

Once he was sure Clarke’s curiosity about their language had been satisfied, he drew both girls’ attention to him. “I want to see your natural ability Clarke,” he started, “so, I want you to run at Ontari and try and attack her.” 

Obviously Clarke’s alarm at being asked to attack someone showed on her face because Ontari let out a dark chuckle, “You’re not going to hurt me girl. You’re way to wispy, you wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” It was a challenge, she was trying to rile Clarke up, make her angry and therefore even sloppier than she was inevitably going to be. She may have agreed to tutor Clarke, but she never said she was going to make it easy. 

Clarke gritted her teeth, her hand tightening around the sword hilt. She may have no experience with fighting but she needed to prove that she was worth keeping around. She wanted to survive. She wanted a life down on the ground if she could no longer have one in the sky. 

Seeing the change in Clarke’s stance, Ontari brought her own sword up with a twirl and a flourish, raising an eyebrow at the other girl. She barely even blinked as Clarke rushed towards her, both hands wrapped around the sword as she raised it high in the air. But it was too heavy and she wasn’t used to it, so the sword wobbled in Clarke’s hands and clumsily fell down towards Ontari. Her grip too weak and with no real control, Ontari easily countered the blow. The force of her blade hitting Clarke’s caused the younger girl to stumble backwards, a shock running up her arm. 

Clarke took a few seconds to breathe, dazed by the force of Ontari’s defensive strike. She had not expected sword fighting to be so difficult. Sher charged forward again, with a little more control this time, but it was still not enough. Before she could even finish her swing Ontari parried back, knocking the blade wide away from her body. Clarke almost lost her grip. 

Ontari twirled around Clarke, a grin lighting up her face, as she watched the blond struggle to keep up with her. Ontari never attacked first, just waiting for every crude blow Clarke failed to land before defending and swatting away the blade. 

Clarke’s breaths grew ragged, she was struggling to keep up with Ontari. But then an opening appeared as Ontari turned away from her. Clarke lunged forward with force, determined to land at least one blow with the dulled blade. She threw all her energy into that lunge, and just as she was about to strike her target, her feet flew out from underneath her. Letting out a startled cry, Clarke found herself with her face in the cold dirt. The sword fallen from her hand. She groaned, filled with annoyance and disappointment at how close she had been. 

Ontari laughed as Clarke pushed herself up, mud stuck in the girl’s hair. Roan tried to hide his smile behind his fist. Clarke’s cheeks had gone bright red, and not just from the cold and exertion. Getting back to her feet she scowled at the still laughing Ontari, her breaths coming out in pants. “I was so close,” Clarke growled out, but Ontari was laughing too much to actually pay attention. 

Roan shook his head. “No you weren’t Clarke, but you put up a very good effort. Especially for your first try.” He was trying to be encouraging, but Clarke just felt the bitter disappointment of failure. His face softened slightly, and Ontari quietened down, resuming a normal facial expression. “Are you hurt Clarke?” 

Clarke shook her head in response as she tried to brush the mud off of her hand and legs. It wasn’t going that well. If she could have seen the state of her hair she would have known the endeavour was pointless. 

“Good. I’ll make sure you we get you some proper boots.” Came his response, after he noticed the condition the ones that Clarke was wearing. The thin canvas shoes didn’t have any grip and probably aided in Clarke’s fall. Her feet were definitely cold and a little numb. “Now, try again. But this time focus more on keeping control of the sword, do not let it overpower you.” 

Clarke sighed as Ontari rolled her shoulders. Copying the other girls widened stance in the hopes that it would help. She steeled herself, trying to focus in on her hold of the sword. She needed to maintain control. 

  
She didn’t know how long they spent out in the cold, Roan making her repeatedly run at Ontari with the sword, but it felt like hours. And she wasn’t any better than when she had started. Well she didn’t feel like she had gotten any better. There had been one moment when she had gotten close to landing a blow but it had been blocked at the last second. But at least Roan had said she’d done well. He had been impressed with how well she had taken direction, changing her approach whenever he had told her to. 

But now, as she followed Roan and Ontari back inside the fortress all she could think was how tired she was. How much her muscles ached, and her feet, that had been numb from the cold and damp, were now sore. 

Roan left the girls once they re-entered the fortress. He had business to attend to with the Queen, and by business he meant reporting to her about Clarke’s progress. So Clarke walked alongside Ontari down the stone corridors. Ontari didn’t speak. She didn’t want to admit that she had been impressed with Clarke’s dedication to training. But she had been. It was making her think that maybe the girl wasn’t as weak and hopeless as she originally thought. 

“Where are we going?” Clarke asked suddenly, breaking through the quiet of the fortress. She had realised that they weren’t going back to her room in the tower. 

Ontari didn’t even bother to look at Clarke as she spoke. “Do you want to go back to the tower?” 

“What? No,” Clarke responded quickly, she didn’t know where Ontari was taking her but she didn’t want to go back to that small, cold room. Now she had left it, the idea of returning felt like the walls were closing in around her. Ontari found herself smiling, but not in a malicious way, at Clarke’s flustered look, and quickly tried to remove it. 

“Then let me take you to your new room.” 

They fell back into silence after that. Ontari wasn’t one for small talk, something that Clarke had already figured out. She was less terrifying than she had originally thought, but if Ontari was meant to be guiding her into becoming Azgeda, she didn’t want to do anything that might cause her to make that path more difficult. 

It wasn’t long before they reached a staircase, although this one was wider than the tower’s, and they didn’t climb for as long before Ontari led Clarke down a corridor. This corridor had a long, and well trodden, carpet that ran down the centre. There were furs of great animals, and intricate tapestries adorning the walls. There were also fewer doors, suggesting that the rooms here were larger. 

Ontari stopped at the fourth door down. Clarke pulled up beside her and waited expectantly. “This is your room,” Ontari said, gesturing towards the door, “that room is mine,” she gestured to the third door down, on the other side, “and the room at the end is for bathing.” 

Clarke nodded along as Ontari spoke, making sure to take in everything she said. Ontari opened the door and led her inside. It was vastly different from the room in the tower. 

Before her stood a bed, double the size of her one back on the ARK. It was made out of dark wood, with thick, faded red curtains hanging around it. Piled high with soft grey and white furs. The room also contained a deep fire place, providing Clarke with much needed warmth, and a table made out of the same dark wood as the bed, with four chairs. There was a great bear skin rug on the floor, similar to the one that Clarke had seen in the fortress’ foyer. She wasn’t as startled this time but she did give the head a wide berth. 

As Ontari stepped further into the room, she pointed out to Clarke the last piece of furniture. “There are clean clothes and furs in that chest there,” she indicated, watching with interest, the way in which Clarke seemed to marvel at everything around her. It made her curious about what life in the sky was like. 

Clarke ran her fingers over the fabric of the curtains above the bed for a moment, marvelling at the roughness in comparison to the softness of the bed’s furs. The room wasn’t particularly well lit, but there were unlit sconces on the walls. She walked towards the fireplace, holding her hands out in front of her to warm up. Steam rose from the dampness of her shoes, and despite feeling Ontari’s eyes on her, she kicked them off so that her feet could reach the much needed warmth. 

Clarke turned when she heard the sound of a chair being pulled out from beneath the table. Ontari had sat down, her eyes still following Clarke. Clarke took another moment to enjoy the heat of the fire before turning and taking her own seat. Both girls sat in silence, watching each other. Clarke began to wonder why Ontari had bothered to stay if she didn’t want to speak. But the silence didn’t stretch for too long. 

“What was it like?” Ontari was uncharacteristically hesitant in her question. Clarke bit back a smile, not wanting to scare her away, because it seemed like she was finally going to have an actual conversation with the other girl. 

“What was what like?” 

“The sky.” Ontari seemed to retreat into herself, as if she was scared that Clarke wouldn’t want to respond, or maybe get emotional about the question. But this time Clarke did smile at her. 

“So different,” she began, “I mean, for starters, we couldn’t go outside, and the temperature and stuff never changed. It was always the same, no matter the time of day,” Ontari couldn’t help her eyes from widening at this revelation, of the idea of not being able to go outside,  “and everything was made out of metal. And there were so many rules, so many things you’re not allowed to do and places you’re not allowed to go.” Clarke trailed off, her brow furrowed when she thought about the fact that the whole reason she had ended up down on the ground was because she had been somewhere she wasn’t meant to be. 

“Do you miss it?” Ontari asked, the way Clarke had described her life made it seem harsh and even more restrictive than being under Nia’s thumb was, because at least Ontari was allowed to go and do whatever she wanted, mostly, as long as she followed any orders given. She didn’t think she could miss a place that kept her so confined; not allowed outside, not allowed to do what she wanted, everything always the same. And Clarke seemed to be so willing to adapt to life amongst the Azgeda that maybe she didn’t miss it. 

But Ontari was wrong, and she could see that in the shadow that passed across the girl’s face. 

“I miss my parents, and I miss my friends. They probably think I’m dead and I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye,” Clarke’s voice was soft and quiet. She was filled with guilt as she thought once more about the fight she had had with her mum before she fell. It seemed like it had happened forever ago, in another lifetime. 

Ontari didn’t know how to respond to the girl’s apparent upset. She too had not seen her parents in a long time, but being away from them had never been something that had bothered her. It was a great honour to be born a night blood, and an even greater honour that her queen had chosen for her to be kept by her side, trained by Roan. In being selected, she had done her parents, and her village, proud. She had worked so hard to be deemed worthy that she would never consider the separation to be something to mourn over. So she just looked at the sky girl and waited for the cloud to pass. 

Clarke found herself spiralling internally. She hadn’t wanted to be so caught up in thinking about her parents, in fact she was sure she had grown numb to the pain of it. But somehow, Ontari’s questioning had brought all that buried emotion up again. 

Ontari bit her lip for a moment, realising that she may have set something off in the girl. So she stood up quickly, drawing Clarke’s attention away from her thoughts, as the impassive mask fell into place (just like Nia had taught her). “The queen wishes you would join us for our meal tonight,” her voice had returned to that cold and formal tone that Clarke had first heard, “I suggest you take a bath and wash your hair before doing so.” 

With that, Ontari turned and left Clarke’s room. The door closed behind her as Clarke sunk back into her chair. A whole new wave of anxiety joining the already swirling pit in her stomach. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke gets to learn a bit more about Nia and the Azgeda, as well as grow closer to Ontari.

**Chapter 5**

 

Clarke sat for several moments after Ontari left. Barely moving. Just thinking about her family and everything she had forgotten in the last few days. So much had happened and she had pushed her guilt and worry aside. It was easier to just focus on one thing at a time. And that was what she had to do again. Otherwise she was at risk of drowning in the past and the swell of emotion.

Her eyes started to burn and water from staring into the fire so long. This was what gave her the jolt to come awake again: to focus back on the world around her. She pushed herself up out of the chair, her head felt groggy and sitting down had made her muscles ache after the days exercise.

But despite the dull throbbing and protest from her legs, she made it out of her room (she didn’t realise how much she appreciated an unlocked door until that moment), and towards the bathing room.

A soft orange-tinted glow lit the bathing room, which was some sort of bath house. Soft tendrils of steam rose up into the air from three large copper baths, providing the room with a humid (but not unwelcome) air. Clarke breathed in the warm steam, it was such a different feeling from the cold bite of the wind that she was slowly becoming acclimatised to. A great fire flickered away at either end of the room.

Clarke chose the bath towards the left. Approaching it slowly, she dipped her hand into the water, pleased to find it warm. By each bath was a small table, holding a little dish of soap and a towel. Clarke couldn’t help but smile at the idea of finally getting to be properly clean again.

She undressed and gave a cursory attempt at running her fingers through her matted hair. Gingerly she stepped into the water, letting out a sigh at the feel of warmth washed over her. She sank low into the bath, so that just her head remained above the water, and closed her eyes. Taking her time to allow the warmth to seep right through her body and sink into her bones. Her muscles, after the days training, sung out gratefully from the warmth.

Clarke spent a few minutes submerged within the water, revelling in the comfort it provided. But eventually she had to get clean. She used the soap to wash herself, taking her time to scrub at her skin, picking out the dirt from beneath her nails and rubbing herself hard, so that she was red and prickly. She wanted to feel properly clean.

Her hair took a long time to detangle, and she rubbed in and rinsed the soap from it three times before she was satisfied that it was actually clean. Without a mirror, she had been unable to check the true state of her hair, but she was sure that it was not in any state to have dinner with the queen.

It was at the reminder that she was expected to have dinner with Queen Nia that prompted Clarke to force herself out of the comfort of the bath. Her fingers had begun to prune from sitting for so long, but it was worth it for the level of clean she now felt. She wrapped the towel around her, it was rough against her skin, but it was clean.

Clarke scooped up her clothes and padded back down the corridor to her room. Someone had been in her room whilst she was bathing as there was a pile of clothes laid out on the bed, with a pair of boots on the floor beneath them. Clarke carefully placed the clothes she had been wearing on the chair as she went to inspect the new items. As she pulled the clothes apart, she noticed that someone had also placed Gaylen’s fur amongst them. Clarke couldn’t help the smile that came to her face as she ran her hands over the fabric. It was comforting to see it there on her new bed, although she didn’t quite know why it produced such a feeling.

After laying the fur out neatly over the bedspread, smoothing out any creases, Clarke dressed herself in the new clothes. They seemed very similar to her previous ones, only in better condition, and this time she was provided with a cloak type thing that was made out of a grey fur that was almost white.

She roughly dried her hair with the towel before twisting the two front strands and tying them in a knot at the back of her head. Just how her mother had showed her. Just as she was pulling on the new boots, (a little big for her but far better than her old canvas ones) there was a knock at the door before it swung open to reveal Ontari. Her hair was freshly braided intricately so that it was pulled away from her face but still fell in waves down her back.

She looked Clarke over, mildly impressed at the way the girl had cleaned up. She looked completely different from when she had first appeared before Nia in the great hall. Then she had been a small and scared child, shivering from the cold. Now: she looked Azgeda, and it suited her. But Ontari wasn’t willing to admit that to the girl, so instead she stepped into Clarke’s room with the hint of a playful smile gracing her lips. “You’re hair. It is strange.” She called out as she approached Clarke, her head tilted to the side.

Clarke anxiously reached up to touch her hair, not sure what she had done wrong. But the tone to Ontari’s voice and her smile suggested she wasn’t being malicious. Clarke had nervously started running a strand between her fingers. “What do you mean?”

Ontari drew up close to the girl, she could see the anxiety in the girl’s eyes and she felt a twinge in her chest for making her worry. But she couldn’t reveal that she felt bad, a true leader didn’t let their emotions guide them. Your people could never know what you are truly feeling, a leader must stay aloof and in control of themselves to be in control of their people. That was one of the first lessons that Nia had taught her.

Clarke watched as Ontari reached out and also picked up a strand of her hair, looking at it curiously. “It is so bright. Like the sun. I have never seen anyone with hair that is gold,” Ontari said slowly, looking up at Clarke as she spoke.

Clarke’s curiosity piqued, “Never?”

Ontari bit her lip as she thought for a moment, trying to think of the right word in Gonasleng. “I have seen people with light hair, but never gold.”

Clarke nodded in response slowly, now she thought about it she hadn’t noticed any other blonde people here. It was an interesting genetic adaptation that her mum would have been fascinated to investigate. But for now, Ontari was still staring at her. “I have never seen braids so intricately done before,” Clarke said, turning the focus of the conversation back onto Ontari.

Ontari self-consciously reached up to touch her hair, specifically to play with the braid that held her feather, in much the same way that Clarke had done. When she realised this Ontari smiled and looked back at the girl. They weren’t completely different it seemed.

“Thank you. It is the way of our people.”

“What does the feather mean?” Clarke asked, she’d noticed that nearly everyone in the fortress had one braided into their hair, but when she had been travelling with Yala and Gaylen she hadn’t noticed it at all.

“It is the mark of the Queen’s warriors.”

Clarke had a thousand questions about the structure of the Azgeda people, because everything seemed so organised and everyone had their place. Even someone as young as Ontari (who was obviously still in training) had a position as a warrior for the queen.

“But if we do not leave now we are going to be late for dinner,” Ontari added, cutting off Clarke’s budding questions before she even had a chance to voice them.

Ontari turned back toward the door, flicking her hand behind her, gesturing Clarke to follow. So, she did, falling into step beside the other girl. But now the reality of having dinner with the queen, the queen who still held her life in her hands, despite having decided that Clarke could stay, began to settle in. Her stomach was in knots and she was sweating, positive she wasn’t going to be able to eat anything. Not with Nia staring at her.

But she had to push all her fear and anxiety down. Because if the queen sensed any weakness in her she may retract her decision to let Clarke become Azgeda. And that was the last thing that Clarke wanted. So, she took a deep breath and unclenched her fists. She was trying to will herself into relaxing.

It worked for maybe a few seconds, until Ontari stopped them in front of a door. The guards on either side, knowing Ontari, opened without any questions, and Clarke followed her inside. They entered yet another room, lit by sconces and a great roaring fire, with furs adorning the walls, and great animal skin rugs across the floor. It seemed that Queen Nia had very distinct taste.

In the centre of the room, framed by the great fireplace, was a very long wooden table. Probably used to seat nearly twenty people. The table was set for only four. There were candleholders evenly spaced along the table but the only one lit was at the far end, where Queen Nia sat at the end of the table, with Roan to her right.

As they approached the table, Ontari dipped her head in deference to Nia before taking her seat to the queen’s left-hand side. Clarke was very much on edge, completely in the dark about the etiquette of the Azgeda people. She copied Ontari’s gesture, briefly glancing up to see Nia give a slight tilt of her head in acknowledgement. Clarke let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she cautiously took the seat next to Ontari, the only remaining place setting.

Once both girls were settled Nia raised her hand and clicked her fingers in the direction of a servant, that Clarke hadn’t seen hovering until that moment. The man approached, carrying a jug, and Clarke watched as he filled up each of their glasses. Everyone waited until Nia had drank first before picking up their own. Clarke sniffed at dark liquid suspiciously, it smelt bitter and not particularly inviting, but worried about offending the queen, she took a sip. It was sharp and sour and bitter and entirely unappetising.

Apparently, she hadn’t been able to hide her disgust. Roan, having seen the look on Clarke’s face after drinking tried to contain his snort and ended up choking and spluttering on his own wine. Which then caused Ontari to burst out laughing as Roan tried to wipe the dribble from his chin. Clarke’s face had turned bright red in realisation that she had caused the whole fiasco.

She chanced a look over at Nia, who didn’t look nearly bemused as her two charges. As Ontari’s laughter began to die down, Nia cleared her throat loudly, drawing everyone’s attention back to her. “Is our food not to your liking Clarke?” The queen asked in a cold voice, staring directly at Clarke.

Ontari shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and Roan glanced awkwardly between his mother and Clarke. Clarke gulped, sweating under Nia’s stare. She didn’t know how to respond to the question, because the last thing she wanted to do was offend. But she also knew she couldn’t lie because her feelings had unintentionally already been shown.

“I-I… I have” Clarke stammered out a response, feeling everyone looking at her, “I’m not used to it.”

Nia waited several moments, just watching Clarke squirm before she sat back in her chair, “No, I suppose you are not.” Her voice was just as cool as before. She did love a power play.

Clarke chewed on her lip, the rest of the table silent, as they all waited to see if Nia was going to say anymore on the matter. It felt like the silence stretched on for an eternity, Clarke worrying that she had just offended Nia beyond any hope of being allowed to stay.

But eventually, the silence was broken as Nia raised her hand once more to gesture towards the servants, “Fetch Clarke some water.”

Clarke could feel the relief wash over the entire table. Roan had known that his mother was not really mad at the girl, she was just a child in a new environment, and despite what the other clans may think Nia wasn’t a monster. But she also did love playing with people, reminding them that she held all the power. So, he had worried that she may have allowed the incident to spin out of proportion. The fact she hadn’t told Roan that his mother meant for Clarke to stay.

As a servant returned with a jug of water, pouring Clarke a new glass, others appeared with trays of food. Clarke watched in amazement as a great joint of roast meat was placed down before Nia, along with platters of vegetables, bread, and other smaller plates of meat. Looking at the food placed before them, and breathing in the aroma of it all, Clarke realised two things: the first being that the ARK had seriously been lacking when it came to flavour and nourishment; and the second, was that the food that she had been eating since coming to the ground was clearly not the feast that she had thought it to be. This was what it was like to eat as a leader of people.

Once Nia had filled her plate, Roan served himself, followed by Ontari. When it came to Clarke’s turn, she was more cautious than the others. Still unsure of the etiquette of these situations, she took small samples from each platter. The food smelt amazing and she wanted to be able to try a piece of everything. After a day’s worth of exercise, especially after being confined to a small space for so long, she was starving again.

But eating wasn’t as simple as Clarke had hoped. When confined to the east tower she had mainly been given stews with stale bread; and she had been given a wooden spoon to eat it with. Now, however, the food on her plate required more than just a spoon. But there were no knives on the table, beyond the great carving knife used for the meat. Clarke glanced around her anxiously, watching what the others did. Everyone else had pulled the knife from their hip, having cleaned them before the meal, and were using those to cut their food. Despite the civilised appearance of the banquet hall, Clarke quickly learned that Azgeda etiquette was to use one’s own knife and hand if a spoon wasn’t adequate. But she didn’t possess a knife.

Clarke sat there dumbly for several moments, watching as the others ate. An anxious feeling grew in her stomach because she was aware that she was meant to eat, and she didn’t want to aggravate Nia again, but she didn’t know how to go about the process. Clarke sipped at her water awkwardly; starving hungry. Frustration building because the food was right in front of her, but she couldn’t eat it. And soon someone would notice that she was being impolite, sooner or later.

Roan noticed Clarke’s silent distress. Part of him wondered why she hadn’t just said anything, but then he remembered the way his mother was playing with the girl. She was clearly trying not to draw unnecessary attention to herself. She was smart.

Clarke watched as Roan gestured for a servant, she couldn’t hear what he was saying as the woman drew away from the Prince. But Clarke didn’t have to wonder long as the woman returned, but this time she approached Clarke. Quietly the woman placed a knife down beside the girl’s plate and when Clarke turned to her she smiled gently. “Thank you,” Clarke said, her voice barely a whisper. The woman just nodded her head in response before withdrawing back to her post.

She had never held a knife so sharp as the one she held now, it seemed such an impractical tool to eat with. But the others around her seemed to have no trouble with it. Which just added to her frustration. But since landing she had become determined not to give up. Clarke wasn’t a quitter, and something as simple as eating her dinner wasn’t going to hold her back. She wanted to be Azgeda and so she was going to be.

The process was a little shaky, trying to get over her fear of cutting herself on the blade, whilst slicing the meat on her plate. But it wasn’t as difficult as she had initially perceived, and the reward was worth it. The food was amazing, just as she had expected. The ground was never going to cease to amaze her.

They were mostly silent for the first part of the meal. Everyone focusing on their own plate. But as Nia reached for another slice of meat she spoke out, “How did your training go today Ontari?”

Ontari turned towards her mentor, despite Nia maintaining her cold exterior, Ontari knew the woman was genuinely interested in her progress. “It went well, Clarke is a good figure to practice blocking,” She said, her lips quirking up in a slightly cocky smile.

Roan shook his head slightly, smiling whilst doing so. Ontari’s arrogance never failed to amuse him. Clarke didn’t fully understand what the girl meant, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that she was mocking her lack of ability.

Nia, as always, kept her emotions hidden. But Roan and Ontari could both tell that Ontari’s answer pleased her. It was what she had expected to hear, and Nia did like her expectations to be met. “Well, I hope that it won’t be too long before Clarke is a worthier opponent for you.” Ontari scoffed, rolling her eyes at the idea of Clarke being able to match her. She could tell the girl was brave and determined, but she didn’t know if she would be as quick a study everyone seemed to think she was.

Nia elected to ignore Ontari’s doubts, she’d heard them all before. Instead, she wanted to hear from the Sky Girl herself. “Clarke, how did you like your first day of training?”

Clarke focused in on Nia, but glanced back at Roan who gave her a comforting smile first. “It was... hard, I’ve never done anything like it before,” she sounded unsure for a moment, “But I enjoyed it.” Clarke broke into a smile, nodding her head to reinforce her point as she realised how much she had enjoyed the day, despite the hard work.

“What are you used to doing, if not training Clarke?” Nia was never one to waste time over emotions, she was always straight to the point. She wanted more information out of the girl, about her life before the ground. Because whilst she had decided that the child was not a threat, that didn’t mean her people weren’t.

Clarke had drawn up short. The question had thrown her, because she wasn’t sure what she was used to doing when she was on the ARK. Somehow, running around with Wells to try and see who could sneak into important places didn’t seem to be on the same level as the life the people on the ground led. But it wasn’t like she couldn’t answer.

“Umm... I go, went, to school,” She started but the confused looks on the faces around her reminded her that she was going to need to give an explanation, “Umm... children on the ARK didn’t work... we, we used to just learn about our people, our history, about how the ARK worked, and umm... setting us up to work once we became adults.” Clarke had a sudden, and very much unwanted feeling, of being inadequate in comparison to those around her. 

Nia stayed silent, thinking for several moments on what Clarke had said. It seemed strange to her that someone as old as Clarke was not deemed able to work yet. How did these sky people function when they kept half their able bodied people out of their workforce because they were too young? It seemed impractical and without foresight. It also made her plans for training Clarke alongside Ontari more difficult if the girl was unused to work. She would have more to do in order to prove herself.

“So you did not work?” Nia asked, but it was a rhetorical question as she carried on speaking before Clarke could respond. “Did you have someone who did work who would guide you? Like Roan guides Ontari, and will guide you.”

“Umm... I had my parents?” Clarke wasn’t entirely sure that that was what Nia meant, but it was the best she could offer.

“And what did they do?” Nia was becoming more interested, despite her intentions of remaining impassive. Her desire for knowledge over a potential enemy was more consuming. 

“Umm...my dad’s an engineer – he makes sure the ARK stays working. And my mum, she’s a doctor.” Clarke couldn’t help but smile when she spoke about her parents. Growing up, she had always known that she was fortunate that her parents held such high jobs, it had given her more benefits than other people had.

“Doctor? What does that mean?” Roan asked, Nia being too proud to admit that she didn’t know something. But their was no use for words such as doctor or engineer amongst the Azgeda, and Clarke had only provided an explanation for her father’s job.

Clarke searched for the right way to explain. She hadn’t really thought that these people wouldn’t know what a doctor was. They all spoke English and surely every society had need for doctors. She tried to think of the best way to describe her mother’s profession.

“Umm...  a doctor is someone who, well who fixes people. So if someone is sick or hurt, you make them better?” She stumbled out, looking to Roan and then Nia to see if it was an adequate enough explanation.

“So she is a Fisa?” Roan asked, but once again it was rhetorical, he was just reinforcing his understanding. The other two women nodded their heads in agreement. Clarke mouthed the word Roan had spoken, trying to make sure he remembered it.

Nia had been silent for a while, and whilst Ontari’s silence had been because she had been raptly following the conversation, Nia was also deep in thought.

“If your mother was a Fisa Clarke, you will also train to heal as well as to fight. You will contribute to Azgeda in any way you can.” Nia did not ask, she had already decided that that was what was to happen. She looked towards her son, “Roan, you can organise for someone to train Clarke.”

“Yes Nomon,” Roan said, dipping his head in acknowledgement. Nia, seeming pleased with her new plan for the Sky Girl, turned her attention towards Ontari.

“Ontari, I’ve been told –“ Nia stopped abruptly at the sound of the door opening. Everyone turned their heads in the direction of the sound. Clarke, out of curiosity, the others at surprise – the banquet hall was not open to interruptions, a servant always came to announce a visitor direct to the Queen, so someone entering without forewarning meant that it must be important.

Nia sat back in her chair, head held high, eyes staring directly at the warrior who approached. He was obviously nervous, eyeing the knife that Nia had stuck point down into the table and was now holding, but he also walked quickly.

He drew up to her side, but refrained from going too close as both Roan, Ontari and several guards all quickly clutched their weapons, tensed and ready to protect their queen. The man took a step back, holding his hands away from his own weapons to show he was no threat. But he was also in  hurry. So he quickly dropped to one knee, falling out of Clarke’s line of sight.

“Haiplana,  _ I have news from the Southern Border.”  _ The warrior spoke, his breath coming in short and heavy because of the speed in which he had carried his message.

Nia looked her warrior over,  _ “Go on.” _

_ “Trikru warriors, about a dozen or so, came up in the night and crossed our border. They set up camp 100 yards across the borderline.” _

Nia’s face twisted into a scowl. “ _ And what are they doing?” _

_ “Nothing my queen, when I left they showed no sign of any further movement.”  _ The warrior let out a deep breath.

Nia brought a hand up to her mouth as she mulled over a plan, the other hand resting, still, on her knife. Roan glanced between the warrior and his mother, waiting for a signal from Nia. Ontari was on edge, she too wanted to know what was going to happen.

Nia dropped her hand and looked at her people that stood in the room,  _ “We cannot stand for this level of disrespect. We must show the other clans that our borders exist for a reason.”  _ Nia looked directly towards her son,  _ “Roan, you will lead the second division of warriors towards our southern borders where you will meet the warriors in the southern villages. I expect you to deal with this display of Trikru arrogance swiftly and efficiently.”  _ Nia had made her decision clear.

_ “Yes my queen,”  _ Roan rose from his seat as he spoke, he glanced towards Clarke and then Ontari. The two seemed to have a brief silent conversation before Ontari nodded. Roan bowed towards his mother, as did the messenger, before both left the Banquet hall.

Nia gestured another warrior forward and began to speak to him in Trigedasleng. Throughout the entire exchange Clarke had sat quietly, watching all the players, but completely oblivious to everything that had been going on. It reminded her of the conversations her parents would have about things happening on the ARK, growing silent when she came into the room, or talking around the topic to keep her in the dark. It made her frustrated, watching as something happened without knowing anything about it.

Clarke turned to Ontari as Nia spoke to her warriors, “What’s going on?” She asked, her voice quiet so as not to disturb Nia and draw attention.

Ontari glanced towards Clarke briefly before looking back to Nia. “Trikru warriors have crossed into our land.” Ontari said absently, she was trying to focus on Nia, to learn how she should approach such a situation when she was leader of Azgeda.

Clarke looked around, sensing the underlying panic and energy that filled those in the room. “Trikru are another clan?” She asked.

Ontari just nodded her head in response, not really focusing on the girl.

“What is going to happen?” Clarke asked, tensing as Nia suddenly rose from her seat. Ontari stood up as well. Clarke watched as the two had a brief exchange in Trigedasleng.

_ “Ontari, you’re responsible for Klark whilst Roan is gone.” _

_ “Yes, my Queen.”  _ Nia began to walk away when Ontari suddenly called after her. “ _ Are we postponing my lessons tonight?” _

Nia stopped, and glanced back towards the girl.  _ “Yes, you can teach Klark instead. It will be good for you both.”  _ Nia left the room with a swish of her coat, several warriors falling in step behind her.

Ontari tried to hide her emotion, to push down the hurt she felt at being brushed aside by Nia. She knew that it wasn’t personal. That this was a direct threat to the Azgeda people, and it was important that Nia was focused. But it still hurt.

When she was sure she had pushed her emotions aside Ontari returned her attention back to the Sky Girl, who was still sat at the table. Clarke was watching her, she’d been surprised at the way Ontari had seemingly folded in on herself after Nia had left. She didn’t know what had been said, but it had had some sort of effect on Ontari. Which was strange, seeing as she hadn’t given up very much emotion in front of Clarke before.

But Ontari ignored the quizzical stare that Clarke offered. Nia had tasked her with looking after and teaching Clarke, and that was what she was going to do. “Have you finished eating?” She asked, a little shocked at how shay her voice was. She swallowed, trying to get back on track.

Clarke glanced down at her mostly empty plate before looking back at Ontari. “I’m done.”

“Good,” Ontari said, not even really looking at the table as a thousand thoughts flooded her mind. “Let’s go.” She said, heading toward the door. Clarke quickly stood up, hurrying to follow her. She remembered to grab the knife she’d been eating with from the table and tucked it into the back of her trousers. It wasn’t that she thought of Ontari as a threat, but that everyone else seemed to carry a knife and it wouldn’t hurt for her to have something to protect herself with.

Clarke followed her back to her room, well she thought it was back to her room, only instead Ontari opened the door to her own room. Clarke stopped in the hallway, unsure whether she was meant to follow Ontari or not. Not hearing Clarke behind her, she turned, rolling her eyes as the sky girl just stood there. “Come on.”

Clarke was genuinely surprised that Ontari was inviting her into her room. The girl had been so reticent to even accept her presence. Clarke barely even let her own mum into her room, if she disliked someone as much as Ontari seemed to dislike her she would never even entertain the idea. But she wasn’t going to argue over the offer either.

The layout of Ontari’s room was the same as her own. But the walls held maps of the country, different territories marked out, and there were more maps scattered across the table. Clarke’s eyes widened as she spotted the variety of weapons Ontari had placed in a wooden rack leaning against the far wall. She couldn’t even identify most of them, but the idea of being able to use them the same way she imagine Ontari could was an exciting one. At dinner, Nia had said that she wanted Clarke to become a useful member of Azgeda and she found herself looking forward to the same thing.

Ontari placed a jug of water and two cups on the table. She took a seat and gestured for Clarke to do the same. As she sat down, Clarke glanced down at one of the maps on the table. Ontari had yet to say anything, but Clarke still had a lot of questions about what had happened at dinner.

“At dinner, the warrior that came in, he told the queen about these Trikru warriors on Azgeda land?” She asked.

Ontari turned her attention back to Clarke, she had forgotten that the girl was likely still curious about what had happened. Being so caught up in her own thoughts about Nia, it had skipped her mind that Clarke couldn’t speak Trigedasleng and so was in the dark.

“Yes, he was from one of the Southern villagers,” Ontari said, “he saw the warriors and came to tell Nia.”

“What is Nia going to do about them?” Clarke asked, she was curious about the way the different clans interacted, hoping it would tell her more about life on the ground.

“She has sent Roan to go and deal with them,” came Ontari’s curt response.

“Deal with them? What does that mean?”

Ontari sighed at the girl’s endless questioning, but Nia and Roan had entrusted her to look after Clarke, and if she thought about it, Clarke was only asking so many questions because she didn’t know anything about their people, so she may as well teach her. To prove to Nia that she could. “I don’t know what exactly Roan will do because he will decide when he gets there and has time to assess the situation. But to show the other clans that we are not weak and shouldn’t be disrespected in this way he will most likely organise the Trikru’s capture, or death. It’ll depend on whether they aggravate the situation or not.”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “You’ll kill someone just for crossing into your land?” She was full of disbelief, she knew that life on the ground was harsh but this seemed unnecessary.

Ontari didn’t seem to pick up on Clarke’s shock, “If they are Trikru then yes.”

It seemed so simple, but Clarke still didn’t know why. “What did the Trikru do that means they are automatically seen as a threat?”

Ontari went to roll her eyes before she remembered that of course Clarke would be ignorant. She pulled one of the maps on the table towards them. “Ever since the clans formed, Azgeda and Trikru have been at odds.” Ontari directed Clarke’s attention towards the map as she used it to point things out, “We share a border with the Trikru, but they are constantly trying to push it back and reclaim the land for themselves. They think that we are too harsh and savage, but they send children into wars and do nothing about the Repas.”

“But you are a child? And a warrior? How is that different from the Trikru?” Clarke asked, confused as to why children fighting was only seen as bad if it was the Trikru doing it, not the Azgeda.

“I do not fight in wars,” Ontari shook her head as she spoke, but their was a wistful lilt to her voice. “I am training to be a warrior, so I might fight to protect my queen, but I will not be sent to fight until I am older and my mentor deems me ready. Roan believes that I only need a few more winters before I am ready.” She looked so proud as she spoke.

Clarke wanted to feel that pride. That desire to be a part of something, a part of Azgeda. Maybe she should have been worried that she wanted to be a part of society that encouraged children to take up weapons, but she wasn’t. Clarke was beginning to feel like she actually belonged here.

“Will you tell me more about life on the ground? Like, how many clans are there? And how big is the Azgeda territory? And what sort of things are important to your people?” Clarke gushed out, getting excited at the prospect.

Ontari surprised both herself and Clarke in laughing at the girl’s enthusiasm. “Yes, I will tell you everything you want to know.”            

“Thank you,” Clarke said, and she genuinely meant it. A sudden thought came to her as Ontari began to point out sections on the map. “Could you show me how you do your hair?”

“My hair?”

“Yeah, you said your braids were a mark of your people. I’m dressed like Azgeda, the queen wishes me to learn how to be Azgeda, I want to learn your language and your customs and how to fight and heal. I want to learn how to become Azgeda, and that also means having my hair like Azgeda.” Clarke’s cheeks reddened slightly at her admission, she hadn’t meant to tell Ontari just how much she wanted to be Azgeda. But once she had started talking it had just slipped out.

Ontari couldn’t help but smile. Clarke may have been an annoyance, but at least the girl wanted to learn, and maybe Roan was right. She wasn’t as bad a she had initially thought. “Yes, I will braid your hair Clarke.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you all liked this chapter :)
> 
> I'm probably going to do another chapter or so with Clarke at this age before doing a small time jump, just to give people a heads up!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a little late but I moved into my new Uni accommodation over the weekend and its amazing how quickly anxiety can diminish your creativity! 
> 
> I'm not 100% happy with the end of this chapter, but I hope its not completely awful.

** Chapter 6 **

 

 

“Azgeda share a border with Trikru, Podakru and Blue Cliff—”

“Ouskejon Kru” Ontari cut into Clarke’s reciting, moving to stand closer behind her.

“Right, Ouskejon Kru. And Azgeda share resources with Podakru, but only have a weak truce with Blu—Ouskejon Kru, whilst Trikru is our enemy?”

“Yes, Trikru regularly threaten our borders, but Ouskejon Kru have made no advances since Nia – widen your stance” Ontari positioned Clarke’s hips so that she had a better hold on the ground, “better – since Nia became Haiplana.” Ontari guided Clarke’s elbow up, so that she held a perfectly horizontal line across from Clarke’s right hand that gripped the bow, and her left which pulled the string back, keeping it close to her body.

Clarke briefly risked a nod in response, the string brushing against her lip just as Ontari had shown her. Her eyes narrowed in on the target and with a gentle exhale she released and watched the arrow loose into the air and hit, just below where she had been aiming. She twirled to face the other girl, a triumphant grin on her face. She didn’t receive the praise she had been looking for, but she did get a slight smile as Ontari reached out to remind Clarke to lower the bow when not in use.

Notching another arrow - her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth as she tried to get the fletching to rest against the marker without dropping when she let go - Clarke pondered over everything Ontari had taught her so far about the Azgeda people.

“Is the Trikru killing King Theo in battle the only reason we despise them so much?” She asked. Her slip in referring to herself amongst the Azgeda people was beginning to occur more often, but neither party seemed to notice, or if they did neither commented on it.

“No.” Ontari’s voice had turned cold at the slight shift in topic, she once again drew alongside Clarke in an attempt to steer her aim. “The Trikru have always coveted many of our resources and our immense ability to survive the harsh conditions that would have wiped out their people. So, they call us savages and say we are cruel whilst they raid and plunder our villages and trade caravans and allow their own people to be taken by the Repas.

“When King Theo tried to lead our armies in a fight against the Maunon, the Trikru leader saw it as a threat to his own rule over his people. Thinking that our great king was showing the other clans that Trikru was weak. So, he attacked our armies before they could reach the Maun and killed our King. And still the Maunon attack both our people and theirs, and they have done nothing to try and stop it.” Ontari’s anger towards the unfairness of the Trikru had begun to build as she spoke and Clarke could feel it in the way she gripped her arm just a little too tight.

She had learnt very quickly just how much the Azgeda despised the Trikru. Seeing them as unnecessarily cruel towards their own people in an attempt to show the other clans that they were strong. They lacked the command of a strong leader like Queen Nia, and envious of the Azgeda’s loyalty and abilities they painted them as savages, whilst viewing themselves as superior because Polis resided in their lands and they had produced more Commanders than any other clan.

Distracted in her thoughts, and breathing in Ontari’s anger, Clarke let the arrow loose before she was ready. She watched as it wobbled in the air, not enough force behind it as it hit the target weakly before bouncing back off. Clarke sighed whilst Ontari shook her head.

“You keep letting your stance drop Clarke. You must maintain your position, straight lines and even breathing, even after releasing the arrow.” It had been surprisingly easy for Ontari to slip into the same teacher voice that Roan often used in their sessions. Not that they had had many in the past few weeks, as he had been off with a small contingent of warriors that were securing the southern borders.

Clarke felt like she had been at this for hours. She was markedly better with a bow then she was with a sword, she had more of an eye for precision, and Ontari had found her a left-handed bow which was far more comfortable to use than the weighty swords. But she was still far from being a halfway decent shot. She only reached the target just over half the time, and if the blossoming bruises and grazes from the string striking her forearm were anything to go by, it would be a painful process to reach Ontari’s level.

She sighed heavily as Ontari prompted her. “I am! I’m keeping my position, I’m checking my breathing, I’m holding the draw. I’m doing everything you told me to do and I’m still not getting it.” Clarke had begun to whine in her frustration, she just wanted to be able to show Roan that she had made some progress when he next returned.

Ontari pulled back and raised an eyebrow at her. Momentarily forgetting that they were of an age with each other and instead looking like a disapproving parent as Clarke whined. _“We can always return to sword practice if you prefer Klark.”_

Clarke glowered at the other girl. “What did you just say?” She asked, annoyance tainting her voice as Ontari stared back at her.

“Don’t play dumb Clarke, I know you can understand me.” Came Ontari’s taunt. “ _You are a quicker study at Trigedasleng than you are at weapons training.”_

Clarke glared, she only understood some of what Ontari had said but it was enough to get the gist. “You know it’s really not fair when you only speak in Trigedasleng, I’m still learning!”

“You won’t learn if you never practice Clarke. And I am still learning Gonasleng.”

“Yeah but you can understand me when I speak,” Clarke mumbled out, hating the fact that once again Ontari was right. She had been picking up Trigedasleng and she did want to learn more of it, to be able to speak it fluently.

_“And you will learn to understand me,”_ Ontari responded, a slight teasing tone to her voice. “ _Now, let’s see how long you can keep up only speaking in Trigedasleng.”_ Ontari smiled disarmingly at Clarke, knowing that the other girl was letting her frustration build. Learning how to control this frustration was just another lesson to add to her training, and the Azgeda didn’t believe in letting training be easy.

Clarke sighed, Ontari wasn’t going to let the language thing go. “ _Ok. I speak Trigedasleng_ ,” Clarke responded, scowling as she saw the corners of Ontari’s lips quirk up in a mocking smile, “ _but you show me other side of mountain. Take me out on…”_ She paused, struggling to find the word before it came to her suddenly and with an excited exclamation, “ _horse ride!”_

Ontari chuckled, but nodded her head. “ _Ok, I will have to check with Nia, but if she gives permission then I’ll show you the surrounding territories.”_ Ontari didn’t know what to make of the warm feeling that flooded her at the sight of Clarke’s smile. It hadn’t even been a full season change since she had landed, summer was still a little way off, but Ontari had already grown more attached to Clarke than she ever thought she would.

She found herself enjoying the other girl’s company. She was funny and smart and she actually seemed to care about Azgeda customs. Training hadn’t gone as terribly as Ontari had thought that first time Clarke had held a sword. The Sky Girl would make a fine warrior with just a little more practice. Ontari found herself laughing a lot more and having fun when she was with Clarke, the girl being so carefree with most of her emotions. It was an odd, but not entirely unpleasant change to Ontari’s usual stoicism.

“ _But you have to earn a trip Klark. Pick up another arrow and try again. Maybe this time you’ll actually hit the target.”_

_“I hit the target!”_ Ontari just looked at Clarke, unimpressed. “sometimes” Clarke mumbled under her breath.

_“You need to learn to control your tongue Klark, you cannot speak to other higher-ranking warriors how you speak to Roan and I.”_ Ontari took a step back from Clarke as she notched her arrow this time, wanting to watch her form and see whether Clarke remembered to correct herself without Ontari’s guidance.

_“I know how to speak to Nia, I am not stupid.”_ Clarke grumbled out. There was so much to remember when using a bow and arrow that she found herself pausing after each step to make sure she was on track. Clarke couldn’t imagine being able to just pick up the bow and shoot, the way she had seen Ontari and Roan do it. But they had both assured her that she would get to that point, she just needed to practice.

Clarke drew in a breath and then exhaled slowly, once again watching the arrow loose into the air. It hit the target, just high of the centre, the closest she had gotten so far. Whilst Clarke broke out into a smile, Ontari was a little surprised that that she hadn’t given a more vocal response. The sky girl had not been one to hide her excitement, but when Ontari looked into her eyes there was an unreadable expression, an internal war raging.

Clarke couldn’t believe it when she hit the target. She was finally getting somewhere in her training, and whilst not the best, it was a marked improvement. But all of that had been overshadowed by her first thought upon hitting the target being: Dad would be so proud of me. She still thought about her parents, but not as often when she first landed. She didn’t cry about losing them anymore, and amongst the rigorous routine Roan and Ontari had gotten her into and her own wonderment at the world around her, Clarke had stopped thinking about them on a daily basis.

Instead, they only seemed to appear in little intrusive thoughts. She would succeed and think of what her dad would think, or she’d answer Becko’s question correctly during her preliminary healer trainer and remember whenever her mum had taken her down to the surgery and pointed things out to her.

Every time a thought of her parents would pop up out of the recess of her mind, it would swiftly be followed by guilt. She didn’t want to forget them, and she most definitely didn’t mean to _not_ think about them all the time. But there was so much going on around her that she had pushed everything not entirely necessary to the back and out of the way. Of course she still loved her parents, but she was starting to forget the particular way her dad’s face scrunched up when he laughed, or the face her mum would pull whenever her dad told a bad joke. And the guilt at those realisations sat heavy in her chest like a great stone, taking all her strength to push it aside. To remind herself that she didn’t have to think about them all the time to still love them.

Ontari helped. She didn’t know where Clarke went when her eyes clouded over and the smile slipped from her face, but she knew it was somewhere Clarke didn’t want to be for long. So she tried to say or do something that would bring Clarke’s attention back to the present. She didn’t want the girl to open up to her, but just to know that she had someone on the other side who was waiting for her to come back.

_“One good shot does not make you an excellent archer Klark.”_ Ontari said, trying to sound teasing. There was an implicit challenge in her voice, one that caught Clarke’s attention and dragged her out of her reverie.

She turned towards Ontari, giving her a cocky smirk. Since being on the ground Clarke hadn’t had a lot to be overly confident about, feeling a lot like a baby: entirely clueless. But Ontari had seen the girl’s confidence shine through in the face of nearly any challenge Roan had presented to the pair.

_“So, what does make an excellent archer Ontari?”_ Clarke raised a brow, she went to fold her arms in a defiant stance, but holding the bow scarpered such plans so she ended up just moving her arms awkwardly.

_“Ten perfect shots in a row”_ came Ontari’s response, causing Clarke to giggle.

_“You have to prove it now.”_

“ _You say that like it’s a challenge Klark,”_ Ontari was teasing again, “ _I am the best still-in-training archer in the citadel.”_

Clarke chose not to respond, instead she took a step away from the crop of arrows sticking out of the ground, gesturing widely with a sweeping motion for Ontari to take her place and prove her statement. Both girls knew Ontari was more than capable of fulfilling such a challenge, but admitting that would take the fun out of the scenario.

Ontari rolled her shoulders, pretending to stretch out her arms and legs. The whole while making Clarke giggle at her theatrics. Ontari picked up her own bow, slowly curling her fingers around the smooth wood. It was a comforting feeling, to hold your own weapon in your hand, to feel the power thrumming through the wood.

Ontari gave Clarke a brief glance, flashing her a cocky smile, before turning her attention towards the target. She counted out the arrows stuck in the ground next to her, positioning herself so that she had easy access.

_“Watch the master at work.”_

The first arrow struck the centre of the target with force, causing Clarke’s own arrow to wobble above it. The second arrow brushed the fletching of the first. The third and fourth both went low. The fifth went wide, still hitting the target. The sixth and seventh filled the remaining gaps between the centre and the fifth arrow. Clarke gave up a shocked cheer when Ontari’s eighth arrow struck the centre, touching that first shot so there was barely a hairbreadth between them. The ninth arrow was truly a spectacle, Ontari hadn’t been completely pleased with her performance, and her annoyance transformed into more force. The Ninth arrow struck the first right down the middle, splitting the fletching before the angle got twisted and it struck the target diagonally.

Revelling in Clarke’s amazement, Ontari shot the final arrow high into the air. Both girls watched with baited breath as the arrow fell back down. As it struck the target Clarke couldn’t contain her shocked yell. Ontari let out a relived breath that it had actually worked, and then proceeded to shrug off any and all of Clarke’s praise in a false attempt to pretend that she knew the shot would be successful. But the smile didn’t leave her face the entire time they stayed out at the shooting range.

Ontari wished that Roan, or even better Nia, had seen her take those shots. That she had shown them that she was both a good teacher and a warrior in her own right. Roan had taken notice of how much Ontari had improved over the last winter, but Nia still hadn’t seen it as enough for her to progress out of training and officially become one of her warriors. She thought Ontari was untested, but refused to relinquish her hold over the girl by placing her amongst the other warriors. Roan refused to tell Ontari his mother’s reasoning for why she was being pushed so much and expected to do so much more than the other trainees. But you didn’t question Nia, not without very good reason. Ontari was hoping that training Clarke was the push needed for Nia to see her as the warrior she truly was.

Ontari was watching Clarke practice de-stringing, and then re-stringing, her bow. Being able to maintain one’s own weapon was an essential skill for a warrior. If they were out in the field, everyone was expected to keep their weapons in perfect condition. Clarke had initially struggled with stringing her bow. She didn’t have the strength needed to pull it upwards enough to bend the wood. With practice it had gotten easier, only now her muscles ached from putting so much pressure into the repetitive action and she was growing tired. The pair had already had one near miss when Clarke had lost control of the leather strap used in the process, causing both the strap and the string to ping off the end of the bow violently. Narrowly missing Clarke’s face and potentially blinding her. She had had to take several moments after that to calm herself down whilst Ontari looked over the weapon to make sure it wasn’t damaged and there was no fault to cause a repeat of the incident.

Removing the string from the end of the bow, Clarke glanced up and saw the warrior approaching them both. Ontari had spotted them some way back – yet another skill that Clarke would need to work on: her observation and awareness of her surroundings.

_“What does she want?”_ Clarke asked Ontari who hadn’t taken her eyes off of the warrior.

_“A message from the Queen or Roan.”_

_“Oh”_

Clarke put the bow to one side as the warrior approached. A young woman, not that much older than the pair. Ontari recognised her, she had only been part of the Queen’s warriors for a few months, selected from her village as the most promising fighter. She still marvelled at the feather in her hair.

Ontari nodded her head in greeting, waiting for the warrior to speak.

_“Prince Roan has returned, and the Queen wishes to speak to both of the you in the Great Hall.”_ The girl, despite the proud set of her jaw, stumbled a little over her words. Being messenger for the queen seemed so inconsequential but it was a great honour.

_“Did she say why she wants to speak to us?”_ Ontari asked, her voice cool and emotionless. Clarke noticed that she always went that way when speaking to the servants, the warriors she didn’t know well and the Queen.

The warrior looked a little panicked, _“N-no, she didn’t say.”_ Clarke felt bad for the girl, for the way she was squirming under Ontari’s stare. Ontari didn’t. The girl was a warrior, and older than her. She should be strong and defiant when giving a message from the queen, even if it was only to Ontari.

_“Thank you. We will come now.”_

The warrior turned and left as Clarke began to gather up her bow and quiver. She glanced back to find Ontari hadn’t moved. She had a thoughtful expression on her face, staring at the warrior’s back absently.

_“Ontari…”_ Clarke spoke softly, not wanting to startle her when she was clearly deep in thought.

It didn’t work as Ontari jumped anyway, turning to look at Clarke. Blinking rapidly, giving away how deep in thought she had been. _“Come on Clarke, we do not want to keep Nia waiting.”_

Ontari rather effectively brushed off Clarke’s unspoken question, standing up and heading back to the fortress. Clarke hurriedly picked up the last of her equipment and jogged after her. Not that surprised that Ontari had managed to avoid talking about what was on her mind. Feelings were not for sharing down on the ground.

The walk back to the fortress was mostly silent. Ontari only speaking briefly to direct Clarke – who was still learning the ways around the fortress, as every corridor looked the same – and say a few passing words to warriors as they passed. Knowing that Nia didn’t like to be left waiting, Ontari refused to let Clarke take her bow and quiver back to her room. Besides, it looked more impressive for Clarke to carry them on her person to what was presumably some sort of important meeting.

The two girls pulled to a stop outside the doors to the Great Hall. They weren’t the same double doors that Clarke had first entered when meeting Nia, but the doors at the back of the hall used for those more accustomed to the Queen. Clarke made a move to walk through and enter but Ontari gripped her upper arm to stop her.

Clarke was pulled back and round to face the other girl. Still not saying anything Ontari tentatively reached up and tucked a loose strand of Clarke’s hair into one of her braids. Clarke was stunned, it was such a sweet and sisterly thing for Ontari to do, to make sure Clarke was presentable for Nia. And completely out of character for her. Ontari tidied Clarke’s hair and straightened her coat, before giving a terse nod.

_“That is better,”_ her voice was soft and quiet. She still found herself getting nervous when summoned by Nia, despite how long she had been training at the queen’s side. Always, at the back of her mind, was the worry that she would one day displease Nia and be sent back home to her village as a failure. Or worse, be sent to Polis to train with the other Nightbloods, like her sister.

Roan glanced towards the back door when Clarke and Ontari entered, as did a few other warriors and servants, but Nia’s gaze was firmly fixed on those in front of the dais. Clarke couldn’t see who it was Nia was talking to when she entered, but as she followed Ontari round the back of Nia’s chair and took her place beside her on Nia’s right she saw them.

About five warriors, not dressed in the grey and white furs of Azgeda but the browns and greens of Trikru, were knelt before the queen. Hands bound in front of them, several Azgeda guards surrounded them on all sides. They must have been taken prisoner during the skirmishes led by Roan at the Azgeda border.

Clarke glanced towards Ontari, to see how she should react, but the other girl’s face was impassive. As were Nia and Roan. Clarke tried her best to school her features into a similar expression. It felt very strange to stand beside Ontari up on the dais looking down at the prisoners, when only weeks before it had been her kneeling before the queen praying for her life.

_“Will you not give me an answer?”_ Nia’s voice rang out through the hall, cold and imposing as always. Clarke hadn’t heard Nia’s initial question, and she looked towards Ontari to see if she was also confused but the impassive mask was still firmly in place.

The Trikru warriors all remained silent. A few of them were glaring at Nia with such hatred in their eyes that it shocked Clarke to see it. She couldn’t imagine ever hating someone the way these warriors appeared to hate the Queen. The rest were looking down at the ground, or examining their bound hands.

Nia waited several moments, leaning back in her chair casually, a knife in her hand. Clarke didn’t know what she was waiting for but eventually she must have found it.

As Nia lent forward it was if the entire room collectively held its breath. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the queen as she slowly lowered the knife to rest against the arm of her chair. Clarke felt Ontari tense beside her. Her own anticipation built within her, her heart hammering against her chest.

_“Very well. If you will not tell me who orchestrated the attacks into my lands then I cannot guarantee your lives. That decision will now fall down to you.”_ Nia turned to looked at Roan before she spoke again. _“Take them to the holding cells beneath the fighting pits. They may fight for their freedom.”_

As she finished speaking Nia stood up abruptly. Barely giving the Trikru prisoners a glance as they were escorted out of the hall. Clarke didn’t know where the fighting pits were, or what they even meant, but based on the horrified looks on the prisoners’ faces it clearly wasn’t somewhere that you wanted to be.

Ontari didn’t move from the dais as Nia left and the prisoners were escorted out, so Clarke didn’t move either. They stayed stationary whilst most of the other warriors left the hall once Nia and the prisoners had gone. But Roan also stayed put, and once the hall was clear he crossed the dais to stand with the two girls.

As Clarke and Ontari both turned their attention to Roan, Clarke figured that Ontari had been expecting his approach. It had been days since they had last seen him. The Trikru intruders had taken longer to subdue than the initial report had suggested. He looked tired, not having had any proper rest since the whole ordeal started. He’d only returned to the fortress a few hours before and Nia had kept him with her since his arrival.

_“I assume you were successful?”_ Ontari asked Roan, trying to contain her eagerness to hear all about Roan’s exploits and victory. She loved to hear stories about the prowess of the Azgeda army, because one day she hoped that she too would get to lead it like Roan did.

_“You’re correct.”_ Roan smiled at Ontari as he spoke, he knew how much she wanted to become a fully-fledged warrior. He glanced towards Clarke, recognising her presence he switched to speaking in Gonasleng (unaware of how far Clarke had come in learning Trigedasleng). “Those are what is left of the Trikru warriors that crossed into our lands. They have not yet told us why, and on whose orders, they crossed the border.”

“What is going to happen to them?” Clarke asked. She didn’t understand why the Trikru felt the need to attack Azgeda. They had their own land, which according to Ontari was plentiful in its resources. There was nothing the Azgeda had that the Trikru could want, except from more land and power. A desire which seemed superfluous and greedy and only reinforced the Azgeda’s reasons for despising the other clan. But despite their hatred and the threat they posed to Azgeda, the idea of the Trikru warriors being hurt upset Clarke. Especially if it turned out they were just following orders.

Roan and Ontari didn’t share Clarke’s worry. They’d both been brought up on the knowledge of all the awful things Trikru had done. Roan had lost his father to the Trikru’s hatred of Azgeda. They were all the same in their eyes, cruel and callous and only out to serve themselves and their own people. And these Trikru warriors had attacked their borders and their people for no reason, and for that they should be punished. Roan had lost two warriors during the skirmish. Justice needed to be served.

“They are being taken to the fighting pits.” Roan replied, but Clarke already knew that. So she turned to Ontari. The other girl knew what Clarke was going to ask before she had even voiced it.

“The fighting pits are for entertainment, usually.” Ontario began, “We go to watch people fight one another.” Clarke’s eyes widened, no one had told her that that was what Azgeda did to amuse themselves.

“Most people volunteer to fight. It is a great honour to be deemed a champion in the pit.” Roan interjected.

Ontari glanced up at him, smiling. “Roan has won three times.” She was obviously proud to be trained by someone who held such a title. Clarke could understand why; physical prowess was everything to the Azgeda. It explained why the fighting was voluntary, there wouldn’t be a shortage of Azgeda wishing to prove themselves.

“But the Trikru prisoners aren’t volunteering?”

“No. Most of the fights are done by volunteers, free Azgeda warriors. But sometimes, when there are enough prisoners taken, we hold special fights. The captured must fight one another, and the person who wins at the end of the tournament wins their freedom.” Ontari responded, her lips pulled into a grim line at the thought of the prisoner fights. They were always the most watched, and the bloodiest, of all the matches.

“I am going to retire now.” Roan said. Ontari jumped to say something but he responded before she could. “I will tell you all about the battle tomorrow Ontari. But for now, I need to sleep.”

As she watched him leave, Ontari looked disappointed. She had been looking forward to hearing about the battle. But Roan needed to rest, and she couldn’t argue with him regardless. So she turned towards Clarke.

_“Come on Klark. We can get in some studying before dinner.”_ Clarke groaned as a response, but it was good humoured and caused Ontari to smile. Albeit very slightly.

_“When will the fights be?”_ Clarke couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was horrifying, the idea that you would have to fight your fellow warrior in order to gain your freedom. But she also recognised that they had crossed into Azgeda lands and thus broken the already tentative treaty. Only, Clarke wondered if Nia would have made her fight in the pits if she had thought she was lying about falling from the sky.

_“Tomorrow. If the ground has thawed enough.”_ Ontari responded as she pushed open the door to her room. “ _We will be expected to go. It will be the first tournament of the season and prisoner fights always draw the biggest crowds.”_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The stands were bigger than Clarke had first thought. She now realised the fighting pits were the same structures she had seen from the window of her tower room that first day. That felt like a lifetime ago as she sat in the Royal box, tucked in beside Ontari, wrapped in a great white fur. Roan and Nia were sat further up from Clarke and Ontari, but all in the same box. Nia was in a great throne that mirrored her chair in the Great Hall. Roan was in a position almost as regal.

It was the first time Clarke had worn the Azgeda war paint. A bright white paste that Ontari had drawn onto her face, across her eyes and down her cheeks. Strapped to her thigh was a knife. A large, sharp thing, with a leather handle stained grey and carved with intricate designs. Ontari had told her it had come from Nia, as a gift to show that she approved of Clarke’s process. But Nia had yet to acknowledge Clarke today, and had made no move to show that she was going to accept Clarke as a member of Azgeda. Although Ontari and Roan both saw the knife as a good start to moving Clarke in that direction.

Looking over at the faces filling the stands, it seemed like the entire Azgeda population had travelled to the mountain to watch the fights. The tournament hadn’t even started yet and the sound was deafening. People shouting and laughing and talking with one another. It was early afternoon and the wine and fermented hops were flowing freely. Clarke had seen three fights break out in the crowd, and apparently there had been more.

She turned towards Ontari whose eyes were fixed on Roan and Nia, talking quietly to one another.

_“Why are prisoner fights so popular?”_ She whispered, well it seemed like a whisper into Ontari’s ear, but in reality, the roar of the crowd meant Clarke almost had to shout.

Ontari’s responded absently, “ _Because they are fights to the death.”_

“What?!” Clarke was startled. She hadn’t known she was going to be watching people die. Worse than that, watching people kill one another. When training with Ontari and listening to Roan talk about battle she had known, rationally, that they were training her to kill. But death seemed such an abstract concept. Even when she thought Nia was going to kill her the reality of that had never really sunk in. She had never seen someone die before. Her parents had always made sure she was kept far away when someone was going to be floated on the ARK.

But she was being faced with it now. Amongst an arena full of people. All of whom were here for entertainment. She had been told that Azgeda put survival above all else, and she knew that that meant people would die. But she had never imagined that the death of others would be for entertainment.

Ontari had heard Clarke’s panicked reply and had turned her attention away from Nia and Roan. She looked towards the girl to see she had gone quite pale and her eyes had widened. Ontari hadn’t even thought to warn Clarke about the nature of the pit fights. It was such a normal part of Azgeda culture. But of course they hadn’t had anything like this up in the sky, not if the girl hadn’t even known how to hold a knife when she had first arrived.

Worried that Clarke may begin to panic in earnest and therefore draw unwanted attention to herself, Ontari tried to calm her down. But she wasn’t sure how. “Clarke. Clarke. Calm down. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you. But why are you freaking out?”

Clarke’s eyes snapped to Ontari, a flash of anger washed through her at the other girl’s question. “Why am I freaking out? I’m freaking out because I’m meant to watch people kill one another for fun! The question should be why aren’t you freaking out?”

Ontari tried to maintain her own sense of calm else this was going to spiral into some sort of argument. “Because it is normal for people to die. Everyone must die Clarke. And if that be by someone else’s hand then so be it. What do you think we were training you to fight for?”

“I know that! I know...” Clarke sighed in defeat. Although the worry and panic and fear was still there, her rational brain was taking over. “It’s just... It’s just I’ve never seen anyone die before.”

Ontari’s face softened at the fear in the other girl’s voice. She reached out and laid a hand gently against Clarke’s arm in an uncharacteristic show of tenderness. The attachment Ontari felt towards Clarke was growing, and with it came a great sense of care.  Neither could imagine life without the other. And neither would ever admit that, not even to themselves.

“Clarke, I promise it will be alright. You do not have to watch. Just close your eyes. No one but me has to know.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> This is the last chapter I'm doing with Clarke at this age, so there's going to be a small time jump for the next chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've got a little time jump here. It's about 5 years later (time is relative on the ground cause there's no clocks!)  
> That means Clarke's roughly 14 and Ontari is 16. 
> 
> Don't worry, I'm not staying at this age for long, so there will be another time jump in the near future, and that's when we get to the clexa. I did say this was slow burn, right?! 
> 
> Enjoy!

** Chapter 7 **

****

Clarke watched as the water turned a murky ruddy brown as she scrubbed at her hands furiously, making sure the blood came out from under her nails and between the callouses. She glanced up as someone else joined her at the basins.

_ “If I have to stitch one more arrogant warriors hand back together because they don’t know how to hold a knife I’m going to scream.”  _ Toro said in way of greeting. Clarke snorted in response, shaking her head slightly.

_ “If it helps, I’ve just finished with Renny. Again.”  _ Clarke turned to face Toro fully as she dried her hands. “ _ I swear that boy is in here every week with some new injury.” _

_ “He needs to learn to pick his battles that one. He can’t take on the whole world.”  _ Toro’s voice had softened as she spoke about the boy. Clarke may have been exaggerating slightly, but he _ was _ constantly hurting himself. Always trying to prove that he was just as tough as the other trainees despite having been sickly as a child. But his constant presence meant that the healers had all grown quite fond of him.

_ “Try telling him that.”  _ Clarke teased. They both knew how stubborn he was, never backing down from a challenge. Clarke would never voice it but he reminded her a little of Ontari, and of course Ontari would say that he reminded her of Clarke. He was older than Clarke was when she first landed on the ground but he seemed like a child, especially to Ontari who occasionally trained him.

Clarke split most of her time between training with Ontari and Roan, and the rest of it was spent training at the hospital. It turned out she had a natural affinity for healing and as a result she was being left unsupervised to treat patients more frequently.

Clarke found that she enjoyed being at the hospital. Sometimes it could be gruesome and would get too much, but most of the time Clarke found every aspect of it interesting. It also helped that, unlike with her fight training, Clarke had started healer training at the same age as the other Azgeda, so she hadn’t had to catch up on anything, and was slightly ahead those the same age as her.

So far, she hadn’t had to deal with any major injuries or illnesses. The trainee Fisas were often left to deal with lower priority cases. Which boiled down to patching up warriors who were careless in their training. It was understandable that most people weren’t comfortable with someone much younger than them working on a serious issue.

The qualified Fisas had their hands full with more serious injuries. Ever since the new Commander had ascended the tensions between the other clans had grown. Azgeda were constantly fighting with Trikru and Ouskejon Kru. And then during the winter a fever had begun to spread through some of the villages. The cold weather meant that the Azgeda resources were already low and the fever had hit them hard. They had lost a lot of people.

Nia had pulled Azgeda back within their borders. Avoiding conflict with the other clans whilst they waited for the disease to burn itself out and for their people to recover. But what had been a well thought out and tactical retreat, meant to protect her people, had made Nia appear weak to the other clans. So that now the weather was warming she was pushing the Azgeda army harder than before to prove that they were still to be feared.

It was only a matter of time before Clarke and Ontari would be sent out on a mission that actually crossed the Azgeda borders. Ontari was counting down the days. She had been waiting for the moment in which she could prove that she was really the warrior Roan had trained her to be. Nia had withheld giving Clarke and Ontari the Azgeda mark (the diamond cut into the forehead) because neither had had the chance to prove themselves in an actual battle. It was a decision that hurt Ontari because there were warriors as young as Clarke who already had their marks. She just wanted to prove that she was worthy.

Clarke tried to play off that she wasn’t as bothered by Nia withholding any recognition as Ontari was, trying to placate her whenever she got angry or upset about it. But it did worry Clarke. She didn’t understand why Nia was denying them the warriors’ mark. She told both of them that she was pleased with their skills, in her own way, and Roan was vocal in the pride he felt towards the two girls.

The day when she had been awarded the snow-white feather that now sat proudly in her front most braid had been one of the best days of Clarke’s life. It had showed to her that Nia actually intended for her to become Azgeda. She had never been threatened with being thrown out of Azgeda lands, and had always been treated in the same way that Ontari had. But until that day she was given the feather, it was like a dark cloud hanging over Clarke. A worry omnipresent in the back of her mind, that the moment she screwed up she would be rejected. That worry had long since faded however. She now knew that she was just as much Azgeda as Ontari.

Her fear now was that she wouldn’t be considered worthy enough to fully serve her queen. Not in the way that she wanted to, as a member of her army, constantly showing the other clans the force and power of Azgeda. Reminding them all why they were the greatest clan. That they had fought for everything they had, despite the harsh conditions of their territory, it was a territory they had earned. That they deserved the respect that was so often denied to Nia. She and Ontari both wanted to be part of the force that took that respect back.

But Clarke was willing to be patient, she knew that it was only a matter of time before she was needed in the fight to preserve Azgeda. She would wait until that moment arose. In the meantime, she was expelling all her energy into training. Ontari’s frustration at being left behind meant that she pushed Clarke harder, and Clarke not willing to back down, pushed back just as hard.  She had come a long way from the scared little girl that had fallen from the sky.

Clarke mulled all these thoughts over as she set about the task of putting away the freshly washed bandages. Neatly rolling each individual bandage and placing it in its appropriate space in the dresser. Clarke had learned the hard way what happened when the supplies weren’t where they were supposed to be. One thing out of place could hinder a Fisa during an emergency and risk someone’s life, and Clarke cared too much to let another warrior lose a limb, or worse their life, because of her mistake.But it was a mistake that she had learnt from. It made her work harder and become more dedicated.

Clarke barely even looked up as the door to the hospital opened. People were always coming and going that after a while she had become immune to the distraction of movement. If a patient needed her help she would be called over. Besides, her attention was focused on making sure the suture equipment was clean and working. Stocking up always fell to the trainees.

She did look up as someone approached her however, turning from the table in front of her towards the warrior. He clearly wasn’t injured, so Clarke raised a brow at him in question as he stood staring at her.

_ “Are you Klark?”  _ The warrior asked. By now Clarke had grown just as impatient with nervous messengers as Ontari had, but she also didn’t want to be unnecessarily cruel so she refrained from rolling her eyes and making a snide comment.

_ “Yes. What is it?”  _ It didn’t stop her voice from being cold, or for her annoyance at being disturbed to disappear.

The warrior seemed to bolden a little when he found that he had the right person. Although Clarke didn’t understand why it was so hard, she was the only one in the whole citadel with hair so bright, and definitely the only light-haired person in the hospital at the moment. It shouldn’t have been hard to find her.

_ “Queen Nia requests your presence in the war room.” _

Clarke’s eyes widened slightly, breaking her image of a cool exterior. If Nia wanted her presence in the war room than that meant it was something serious. There was an unspoken understanding amongst the warriors that if Nia called for your presence in a certain room than that would pertain to the nature of her request. Clarke had been in the war room plenty of times before, watching Roan and Nia plan out missions and how to shore up their defences. But she had only ever been an observer, never summoned. This was a big deal and it was taking a lot of energy not to show how much it meant.

_ “Did-did she say why?”  _ Clarke struggled to maintain a calm and monotone response. Remaining impassive and emotionless in front of other people (besides those closest to her) was the thing that Clarke struggled the most with.

The warrior shook his head, “ _ N-no, she just asked for your presence.”  _ Of course Nia wouldn’t have given a reason. She was Nia. Her request should be enough to send her subject running to her. That was the power of the queen.

“ _ Thank you. I will clean up first.”  _ Clarke said, ending the conversation in such a way that she was allowed to make her own way to the queen. She really hated being escorted places.

Slowly Clarke finished putting away the suture supplies and went to the basins to wash her hands and take off her apron. She wasn’t moving slowly because she didn’t want to go to Nia. She did. It was exciting, being called to the war room. But it was also terrifying. Because she wasn’t sure what Nia wanted, and that made her stomach twist and knot and her heart pound in a way it hadn’t in a long while. The desperate need to prove herself, to make Nia proud was a feeling that she hadn’t had since she was a little girl. But thinking of that time brought up a whole other wash of feelings that Clarke just didn’t have the time or energy to deal with, so she pushed them aside.

Her hands were actually shaking a little as she turned the corridor towards the war room. She took a deep breath because it would not be a good idea to show Nia such weakness now. Faking confidence was sometimes just the same as actually being confident. And right now, she needed confidence.

As always, the guards outside the door to the war room opened the door without saying anything to allow Clarke to pass through. The war room was a smaller than the Great Hall and Banquet Hall. There was a great round table in the middle, always overflowing with maps and reports and other such information. A great dresser stood to one side of the room, inside it contained all the maps and important correspondence essential for planning attacks. There were no windows, and only one door. Supposedly to prevent spies and eavesdroppers. The fire was only small but without any other ventilation the room was always dark and oppressively hot.

Clarke undid her coat as she entered. She spotted Ontari standing beside the table and went to stand by her side. Clarke looked at the other faces in the room. Nia and Roan stood side by side, as was expected. Two more of Nia’s generals stood near to the queen. The rest of the people in the room were warriors. All of them higher ranking than Clarke and Ontari. This only added to the disconcerted feeling that felt like a stone in the pit of Clarke’s stomach.

She leant in closer to Ontari, dropping her voice so that she wouldn’t be overheard. “ _ Did Nia summon you too?” _

Ontari eyed the room, sizing up every other person present. She was trying to work out how she and Clarke fitted into those Nia had collected. She gave a barely perceptible nod in response to Clarke’s question, just a slight tilt of her chin.

_ “Do you know what this is about?”  _ Clarke hated that she had to ask Ontari questions. She hated not having all the information and being in the dark. Especially because she was worried that she didn’t know because she had taken her time to arrive.

_ “No,”  _ Ontari whispered back, looking at Clarke properly for the first time since she had arrived. “ _ Nia is waiting for everyone to arrive.” _

Clarke bit her lip, half in relief, half in worry. Nia hadn’t started speaking when she arrived so that meant they were probably still waiting for someone else. That was good, it meant she hadn’t held Nia up. But it also worried her because she felt out of place being in the war room for something more than just observing from the corner. Adding more people to the mix would only increase this feeling of inadequacy. And not knowing how long they would be waiting for wasn’t helping with the nerves either.

Luckily, Clarke didn’t need to wait. The door opened just as she was about to respond to Ontari, and another warrior slipped quietly into the room. Pushing themselves into a gap around the table. Nia, seeing the warrior enter, cleared her throat causing the room to fall completely still.

Ontari had been watching everyone in the room closely. Trying to figure out what Nia had gathered them for. Excluding the generals and Nia, there were seven warriors standing to attention around the war table. If she added at one of the generals then they were the perfect number for an Azgeda raiding party.

_ “You are all aware of how much of a threat the Trikru have become since the last winter.”  _ Nia spoke, loud and clear. There were murmurs of agreement and a sense of malcontent throughout the group at the mention of Trikru. It pleased Nia to see that her people had such disdain for the other clan.  _ “And they have only grown more daring since that  _ girl  _ ascended.”  _ Nia spat out the word ‘girl’ like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Clarke felt Ontari tense at the mention of the new commander. Nia had been sowing that seed of hatred for a long time. Ontari’s sister not surviving the conclave was the push that Nia had hoped for. Ontari had been beyond eager to prove herself ever since.

_ “I want more information on the Commander. My birds in Polis are barely singing, and no one can find a weakness for our new all-powerful leader.”  _ Nia shared a look with Roan as she spoke, the mocking disdain was the most emotion Clarke had ever heard her queen omit. The rest of the room agreed with the sentiment heartily though.

“ _ I have selected all of you to participate in a sensitive and serious mission. I want information on the Commander. On her family, on her friends, her village, the warriors who trained her. Find her weaknesses and report them back to me.”  _ Nia stopped to allow what she wanted to sink in, she looked at every person in the room individually. Staring into what felt like their souls. “ _ I have selected each one of you because I know that you are skilled for this task. And I believe in your loyalty to the Azgeda people. In your loyalty to me.” _

Clarke couldn’t describe the mix of emotion that she was feeling in this moment. Just the mention of the Trikru and the commander was enough to get her riled up, just thinking about the injustice of the way Azgeda was treated by the other clans. She also felt a great pride in the fact that finally Nia was recognising her dedication and skill. She was being given a chance, alongside Ontari, to prove that she was a worthy warrior. That she could do what Nia asked of her, and do it well. But on top of all of this was the worry that she wouldn’t succeed. That she would fail in the task Nia wold give her and be cast aside. Seen as a traitor to the Azgeda people. Left driftless without anything to cling onto. It was a fear that could be paralysing if she let it control her.

Ontari was going through all of the same emotions as Clarke. The anger and the pride and the worry, but she also felt an odd wash of calm flow over her. It was if she had finally found where she belonged. She knew her place in life and she could fulfil it. Because this had been what she had been born to do and she wasn’t going to let anything get in her way. Everything was starting to fall into place, and now she couldn’t wait to get her life started.

“ _ I will lead the party,”  _ Roan spoke for the first time, his gaze settled upon Clarke and Ontari. “ _ we’ll cross the border at Venya, and then make our way westward through Trikru territory. Its essential we move undetected. No one can know that we are there.”  _ The serious tone to Roan’s voice was undeniable.

But Ontari had questions and she wasn’t afraid of the Prince and his mother; well not as afraid as everyone else.  _ “If we are trying to keep a low profile, then why are you sending a full raiding party to find information?”  _ There was no accusation in her voice, just a genuine query, that once she had voiced the others in the room also found themselves asking.

It surprised exactly no one when Nia remained impassive.

“ _ Because the Trikru have been more hostile recently. And there have been reports of increased Repa presence in their lands.”  _ Roan paused to glance at Nia before continuing, “ _ It is the best way to protect ourselves. Klark will be our healer, Menchay is our navigator, no one knows the Trikru territory like he does, Jacks and Bette are the best scouts we have, and the rest of you are damn good fighters… Just in case.” _

As Roan spoke about each individual warrior he made eye contact with them, reinforcing his praise. It had the desired effect. Knowing that your prince had recognised your talent and skill, and choosing you because of it filled one with so much pride, completely reinforcing the unwavering loyalty that each Azgeda had.

Clarke couldn’t believe she was being asked to operate as a healer for the mission. That was such a big deal, and she hadn’t even finished her training yet. Granted, it being just an information gathering meant she shouldn’t have much to do. But it still meant a lot.

“ _ You will leave at first light. So I suggest you all go prepare yourselves.”  _ Nia commanded, preventing any further questioning or frivolous conversation. Almost in unison, those in the room bowed their heads to their queen before turning to leave.

_ “Klark. Ontari. Stay.”  _ Nia called out as the two girls made their way to the door behind Menchay. They both paused, glancing towards one another before turning back to Nia. She didn’t say anything until the room had cleared.

_ “Roan, you may go as well”  _ came the curt command. It had been unexpected by all parties. Roan always stayed whenever Nia spoke to the girls, they were still viewed as his responsibility. But he wasn’t going to argue with his mother. So he left the girls alone with the queen.

Once the door shut behind her son, Nia turned towards Clarke and Ontari.  _ “This is your first mission as warriors.”  _ Clarke couldn’t read the expression on Nia’s face and she couldn’t tell whether this was being as a good thing or not.

_ “Yes, my queen.”  _ Ontari replied hastily, she too was feeling the same as Clarke. But she wanted to find out quickly.

“ _ I expect a lot from you. The both of you. You have both repeatedly proven yourselves in your training, Roan tells me how impressed he is with your improvements. Especially you Klark. You are no longer the girl that fell from the sky. _

_ “I hope that when you return from this mission, the pair of you will have proven yourselves to be true Azgeda warriors. That you will show Roan, and me, just what you’re capable of outside the comfort and safety of the citadel. Of course, if you succeed than it will not just be me that will know how much of a warrior you will be.”  _ Nia allowed a small smile to appear at the corners of her mouth as she looked at the two girls. Despite her cold and detached exterior, the pride she spoke of was a very real feeling sitting in her chest. Both of them had grown into the type of warrior that she had hoped for.

Clarke and Ontari both allowed themselves to smile fully. Nia had all but promised that as long as they returned with the raiding party then they would be given their Azgeda marks. They would no longer be training, but fully-fledged warriors. Able to help protect their land and people. To finally achieve what they had been working towards the last few years.

_ “We will not let you down.”  _ Ontari responded, the confidence and assertiveness strong in her voice. This was shaping up to be the best day of their lives.

“ _ Promise.”  _ Clarke added, nodding her head in agreement with Ontari.

“ _ I do not doubt it.” _ Came Nia’s reply, it was scary how much faith she was placing in them. But it was also liberating, because now was their chance. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one's a little short, I'm sorry!!   
> I promise I'll make up for it with the next chapter, which I'm kinda excited to write tbh. Although I have no idea how you'll react. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke lets herself be governed by her self-doubt and needs some reassurance about her worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know and I'm sorry! I know it's been a while since I updated.  
> I had really bad writers block and I started my MA course for real last week so I kind of pushed this fic to the side. I also know that this chapter may not quite make up for how long I took to update it, I started writing it, expecting to get further in the plot then I actually did. But it turned out I had a lot more to say before getting to the action. But I promise, the plot will actually pick up and move forward in the next chapter!

**Chapter 8**

 

_ “Damn it’s cold. I thought the winter had passed.”  _ Jacks spat out, stamping his feet and burying his face further into the collar of his coat.

Clarke nodded her head in agreement with him. She wasn’t going to risk raising her face from the warmth of her fur, it was cosy in here and she would like it to stay that way.

_ “You are all babies.”  _ Menchay grunted. He was pretending to not care about the weather, standing tall. But there were white tendrils of steam as he spoke and his nose was red and dripping. You could act as tough as you wanted: nature didn’t care. The others all scoffed and rolled their eyes.

Ontari stomped her feet in annoyance. They had all been waiting for Roan for a long time. They were meant to leave at first light and the sun was approaching rapidly, as the darkness was interjected with spurts of amber and violet. The horses were growing agitated, they had been harnessed and the packs secured as soon as the others had gathered. They had expected to be moving by now and the anticipation was distressing to the creatures.

Clarke watched as Tyla and Hope both whispered to their mounts. Stroking their necks and getting them to calm down. She knew that many warriors formed a great bond with their horse, but she hadn’t really felt that connection. She was wary of the horse, and it was wary of her. So they had a mutual understanding in which they treated one another with cautious respect but didn’t get too close. It meant things ran smoothly. Most of the time. And Clarke was perfectly happy with that arrangement.

Ontari always teased her. Saying her tenuous relationship with the animal was the last vestige of the sky people still in Clarke. She believed that the animal could sense that Clarke wasn’t from the ground. Roan just said it was because the animal could sense that Clarke didn’t fully trust it. She denied both claims, trying to convince both them and herself that it was because the horse had had enough, and would act that way with any human. They were all correct.

Clarke crossed the small group to stand beside Ontari who was checking through the pack on her own horse, but she looked up as Clarke approached. Clarke didn’t need to say anything for Ontari to know what she was thinking. After they had been dismissed from Nia the night before, they had both gone back to Ontari’s room to talk. To share their fears about the mission.

Ontari knew that Clarke was worried she wouldn’t be able to perform under pressure, that if there was a life or death situation she would choke. Ontari thought that she had dissuaded Clarke from such worries, but the look in her sister’s eye was enough to tell her that wasn’t the case.

As Clarke drew up to the horse she turned her back on the rest of the group. She didn’t need them to see her panicking. She was the healer, she was meant to keep a clear and level head. But that was what was scaring her.

Ontari smiled at her in an attempt to be encouraging, but the cold made it more of a grimace. “ _ You can do this Klark,”  _ She whispered.

Clarke shook her head, absently stroking the side of the animal with a gloved hand. “ _ I don’t think I can Tari.”  _  Clarke was the only one who could get away with calling Ontari anything other than her name.

Ontari went to sigh and then stopped herself. She knew that Clarke’s fears were genuine – she felt some of them herself – and that after last night, dismissing them wasn’t going to make her feel better or more confident. So instead of rolling her eyes, she grabbed one of Clarke’s hands and squeezed it, albeit briefly because they  _ were _ in public.

“ _ Listen to me Klark. You are the best trainee Fisa. Nia knows this. That’s why she chose for you to go on this mission. Just like she chose everyone else. She hasn’t sent you out with a qualified Fisa to guide you because she doesn’t think you need one. Because you are enough on your own. You are enough.”  _ Ontari had such sincerity in her eyes that Clarke felt a swell of confidence grow in her chest as she spoke. She found herself nodding along with Ontari.

“ _ Ok, I can do this. I can. I am enough.”  _ It was muttered like a chant, but it seemed to work.  _ “Thank you,”  _ She whispered to Ontari, who just nodded her head in response. She’d already risked showing too much emotion as it was. Besides, she also needed to prove herself and she wasn’t willing to let something as silly as emotions get in the way of that.

“ _ But–“  _ Clarke started to speak again and this time Ontari did roll her eyes. “ _ What if someone gets injured and I don’t know how to treat it? Or what if I forget what herbs and ointments to use for infection and someone dies? Or what if- “ _

“ _ Finally.”  _ Menchay suddenly called out. He effectively cut Clarke off from her increasingly panicked rambling, much to Ontari’s relief because she wasn’t sure she could return Clarke if she began to spiral.

Everyone turned to follow Menchay’s line of sight to see Roan crossing the courtyard to meet them at the fortress gate. He had a serious look on his face and a crease in his brow. He eyed Menchay with a glower, but refused to acknowledge the statement any further. It was too early into the day, and the mission, to start an argument over respect.

_ “Are we ready to go?”  _ He asked the group. Ontari rolled her eyes, unsurprised that he wouldn’t give an explanation for his lateness. Realistically she knew it was probably a power thing, and that if anything he would have spent the morning with Nia. But there was always the option that he had just overslept.

There was a grumble of agreement as people began to move. Shaking out cold limbs and stretching icy fingers, as one by one everyone mounted their horses. Roan pulled his horse round to the front of the group. He gave a sharp whistle and the gate swung open.

It was eerily quiet as they rode through the town that sat in the shadow of the fortress. The farmers would only just be beginning to wake, and everyone else was asleep. The only people they saw were the guards, posted at each gate and patrolling the boundary.

On the other side of the mountain, Roan picked the pace up. They had a long way to go. Clarke could feel the anticipation of the journey swell up within her as they made their way through the mountain gates. They had never been confined to the fortress. Nia had always allowed Clarke and Ontari to roam and explore the surrounding villages, especially once they got old enough (and Clarke competent enough) to look after themselves. But all of their time was taken up with various forms of training, because Nia expected so much more from the pair of them then she did other warriors, and so they rarely had the chance to just ride out beyond the mountain. This mission was a chance to explore the world around them.

It was a liberating feeling, to ride through the woods, eyes streaming and hair flowing from the wind. Free from the responsibilities of the fortress (even if it was just for a moment). Clarke loved the smell of the forest, it reminded her of that first journey she had taken, after she had landed. She had never heard from Yala or Gaylen since they had left her at the fortress, but she still had Gaylen’s fur draped over the end of her bed. It had become a memento of sorts, a bridge between the girl she used to be and the person she was now.

The ride through Azgeda lands was silent. There was no need to talk, and no one was ready to make conversation. Not when it was early, and cold, and they had so many more miles ahead of them. It would take at least two, probably three days to reach their destination just on the other side of the Trikru border.

The silence left Clarke alone with her thoughts. Over the last few years she had gotten good at tuning out the little voice that tried to remind her of her family back in the sky, and everything she might have been missing out on since she fell. The voice always tried hardest to break through in that moment of peace that occurred when she fell into bed at the end of an enjoyable day. But it also reared its head whenever she was left to her thoughts. This ride was the perfect opportunity.

She found herself wondering what her parents might have done after she fell. Did they grieve her? Were they still grieving her? Or had they moved on? She didn’t know exactly how much time had passed, but it might have been enough for them to forget about her. For them to treat her as a distant memory.

The lack of emotion at the thought of her parents having moved on was more shocking than if she got upset by the idea. Clarke had known, that somewhere along the line, her parents and the ARK had become a distant memory. A small subset of her mind that would pop up every now and then, but ultimately didn’t impact on her life. She didn’t know when this shift had occurred, but the fact it had told her that she was meant to live on the ground. That she was meant to be an Azgeda. That she was where she truly belonged.

Azgeda had become her home, and Ontari, Roan and Nia had all become her family. She couldn’t imagine what life would be like without Ontari by her side. She had become a stronger friend than Clarke thought possible, more of a sister. The people, and the terrain, and the food, and the culture; everything about the ground made Clarke feel whole. As if she was always destined to end up on earth.

Clarke watched as the trees whizzed past, taking with them all her worries and guilt over her family in the sky. Going on her first mission, proving that she was truly Azgeda, was allowing her to let go of the past. She had never felt so free as she did in that moment, racing through the forest, seeing the first of the warmer weather flowers blooming.

The sense of completeness and joy that she felt in this moment, was enough to make her forget her worries about the mission. About having the responsibility of being the healer. To look out for the others. She was excited for what the next few days would bring.

It was amazing how quickly time could pass, as they sped towards the border. They had had barely any communication with one another, there had been no need. But the journey had still been enjoyable. It amazed Clarke, with just how much she still had to learn about the Azgeda people.

They’d ridden through a village, a small one living off what the forest and river provided. They seemed so removed from the bustle and general frantic energy that the citadel possessed. But as they had ridden by, the village children had run out and alongside them for as far as their legs could carry them. Roan had been approached by the village elders and given a parcel of food, professing gratitude for the protection that the Azgeda warriors brought to these people.

The villagers relied so much on the devotion and loyalty of the warriors to the Azgeda cause. They viewed Queen Nia as a generous and strong leader. In the wake of the fever that had swept the Azgeda lands, Nia had sent warriors out with parcels of food and medical supplies to help the villages, despite the Citadel’s own depleted resources. It was a move that had reinforced the loyalty and devotion that the people felt for their queen.

Seeing how these people reacted to warriors riding by filled Clarke with a sense of purpose. The Commander, and other clans, had always treated Azgeda harshly. They had been unfair and unjust in their attacks, consistently trying to temper the strength of the Azgeda forces. And so far, the new commander had been no different. This, and her unwavering loyalty to Nia had been the driving force behind Clarke’s dedication. Seeing the villagers had shown Clarke who, exactly, she was fighting for.

They made camp in the late afternoon. They had travelled further than Roan had expected and now planned to reach the Trikru border well before night the next day. Clarke was helping to set up the tents with Hope and Jacks, whilst the others had gone hunting. She had never spent much time around either of them before, and was acutely aware of how untested she was compared to the others.

They were proficient warriors. For them, this mission was no different from any other that they had been on, despite the great significance it held for Clarke and Ontari. But if they were aware of its importance to the two youngest members of the party, they didn’t show it.

Clarke had been able to deal with the silence all day, it was expected when travelling. Everyone needed to be fully aware of their surroundings and focused on themselves. But now that they had stopped to make camp, the silence was driving Clarke crazy.

_ “How many missions have you been on?”  _ She blurted out suddenly, driving a tent peg firmly into the ground as she did. Clarke hadn’t expected to actually ask, assuming it would be best to maintain the silence that everyone else seemed so fond of. But it had slipped out.

She glanced up awkwardly, unsure as to whether she would have disrupted the other’s peace. Both Jacks and Hope had stopped in their movements to look over at Clarke.

_ “Too many to count--“ _

_ “Eighty-three--“ _

They both answered at the same time. Jacks laughed first, it was a short chuckle but it eased the underlying tension amongst the group. Clarke cracked a slight smile, still worried she may have stepped over-bounds.

_ “That’s a lot,”  _ Clarke said softly, a little in awe despite her nerves, but she also wasn’t sure who exactly she was talking to. They were both so accomplished.

Apparently, it was the right reaction. The Azgeda were proud people, and loved nothing more than being recognised for their success in battle and having their loyalty towards their queen proven. Jacks puffed out his chest and grinned. Hope, glancing at him, rolled her eyes in pretend annoyance but she also felt that swell of pride in being admired.

_ “Maybe, but the feeling never goes away.”  _ Hope said, she smiled at Clarke, wanting to put Clarke at ease.

“ _ What feeling?”  _ Clarke had put down the mallet and was lent back on her hands.

_ “The one you’re feeling right now.” _

Clarke chewed her lip. This wasn’t the type of wisdom she was hoping to get out of talking to their pair. She wanted them to reassure her in their own stories about battle. Not for Hope to tell her that the worries she was currently experiencing would never go away. That was intimidating.

Seeing the slightly panicked expression on Clarke’s face, Jacks laughed.

_ “Not in a bad way Klark. The anticipation of the mission, the excitement and pride at being selected, the honour of representing Azgeda, of protecting our people. Those are the feelings that always stay.”  _ Hope said, trying to placate her. “ _ The confidence in yourself and your abilities will come. And seeing how Our Queen has selected you for this mission tells us all that you are better than you think you are. So, have faith in yourself. And have faith in Nia, for she is never wrong.” _

Jacks nodded his head in agreement as Hope spoke. Clarke could feel the heat rising up her cheeks. She shouldn’t need to be constantly reassured by those around her. She was meant to be able to stand on her own. To trust in herself. Although, she felt better hearing Ontari, and now Hope, praising her.

She nodded her head slightly, the embarrassment creeping up her spine. “ _ Thank you. I do trust Nia’s judgement.” _

_ “Good.”  _ Hope said, turning back to her work.

Clarke went to do the same when Jacks spoke.  _ “So you’re not even going to ask me to tell you my stories about all the times I defied death? Or how I made it across three territories by myself with no supplies all to get a message to our queen?”  _ His voice was full of incredulity.

Jacks face broke out into a broad grin as Clarke turned to him with wide eyes and a thousand questions. She wanted to know all about his missions, having had no idea what he had done for the Azgeda cause.

Hope cut in before she had the chance to ask anything, however. She didn’t even look away from her tent, and Clarke could hear the eye roll as she spoke. “ _ No, we’re not Jacks. Because none of that actually happened.” _

_ “Hey!”  _ Jacks protested, as Clarke’s expression changed from one of awe to annoyance. “ _ I have defied death several times!” _

_ “Who hasn’t Jacks? Even Klark, who is as green as a spring leaf, has faced death and come out unscathed.”  _ Hope had no time for his fabricated tales. They weren’t going to impress her when she knew them to be false.

Clarke was a little taken aback with what Hope said. She didn’t think she had done anything really worthy of others taking notice. Her training had mostly been uneventful in relation to the other Azgeda warriors. But Hope seemed to think she had already vanquished death at least once.

It seemed as if Jacks shared Clarke’s doubts about her abilities. He gave her a weird look, as if he was trying to size her up once more, only he couldn’t reach a different conclusion to before. She was still the same young warrior, out on her first mission.

“ _ She fell from the sky Idiot.”  _ Hope muttered, shaking her head at how oblivious Jacks could be. Clarke tried to conceal the fact that she also hadn’t known that that was what Hope had been referring to. But once said, it was obvious. She had fallen from the sky as a child. Despite being the experience that she pushed from her mind the most, it had also been the defining characteristic of Clarke’s first few seasons on the ground. And she was pretty sure she had only survived from sheer dumb luck.

Clarke had finished securing her final tent by this point and was about to move to help Jacks set up the fire pit when they heard voices approaching the camp.

“ _ Who are you calling an idiot? I’m not an idiot.”  _ Jacks muttered under his breath, ignored by both Hope and Clarke, as Roan led the rest of the raiding party into the clearing around the tents.

Menchay and Tyla had a boar strapped to a branch swinging between their shoulders. Whilst Ontari and Bette both had blood splattered across their faces. Evidently it had been a successful hunting trip.

Clarke moved to fill a bowl with water collected from the river, as Bette and Jacks got the fire going in the pit. Clarke gave the bowl, and a clean rag, to Roan first. Allowing him to wash the blood and dirt from his hands, before she passed it around the rest of the party. Approaching Ontari, Clarke watched her carefully as she washed the blood from her face.

_ “So, the hunt went well?”  _ Clarke asked, nodding her head towards the boar that Menchay was preparing.

_ “That’s obvious.”  _ Ontari replied, grinning slightly as she teased her sister. Clarke rolled her eyes, dipping the tips of her fingers into the now dirty water and flicking them towards Ontari playfully. Ontari cursed her under her breath, but it was without malice.

_ “Are you not going to tell me anything else?”  _ Clarke asked as her sister wiped her face dry.

_ “What else is there for me to say? We went out hunting, we got a boar, and we brought it back.” _

_ “I know that, but it was also your first hunt out with a party. I mean, that’s a big deal, is it not?” _

_ “Perhaps, for some.”  _ Ontari was being evasive and unaffected. It annoyed Clarke because she knew how much this meant to her. It was all Ontari had spoken about since she had known her. And now she was acting as if it was the least consequential thing to ever happen to her.

Clarke sighed and turned away from her sister, heading back to the fire pit and the rest of the party who were now beginning to settle down around it. Leaving Ontari with her own fake detachment. Menchay had the boar up on a spit and the smell of cooking meat began to fill the air. Clarke’s stomach grumbled in impatience; apparently, they only ate twice a day when out in the field. She looked around at the others, noticing how they’d already began to shed their heavier outer furs after the exertion of a day’s work and the heat from the fire. Preparations for the night ahead were beginning to be made.

Roan was sat atop a tree stump, his whet stone in hand, as he slowly and carefully sharpened his sword. Roan took great care in his sword, he always had done, it was his great pride to wield something so beautiful. It had belonged to his father, Nia had gifted it to him after his success in the fighting pits, to commemorate her sons position as the head of the army. Clarke absently touched the knife at her hip, the one that Nia had given to her all those years ago when she had first spectated at the fighting pits. The queen often made presents of fine weapons to those she saw as worthy, provoking envy in others. Ontari’s own sword was a gift from the queen.

Clarke, having grabbed her medical bag on the way over to the firepit, sat herself down on the ground and laying out a small waxed sheet (to maintain hygiene) began to go through her supplies to make sure everything was in order and in its place. She glanced up as Bette sat herself down next to Clarke, bringing with her her own pack. They were both working in silence, until some of the others joined them. Jacks sat down near Menchay, and instantly began asking him questions about how he was cooking the boar. Bette muttered something under her breath about Jacks trying to get more than his share. Clarke snorted in response, causing the woman to look at her and offer a smile. Which Clarke was all too happy to return.

Hope and Tyla had been sparring whilst there was still light and their muscles still relaxed enough. But the light had begun to wane so they had given up, instead moving to the fire with the others. They were laughing about something when they sat down. Tyla punched Ontari lightly on the shoulder in a playful way as they sat. They’d obviously bonded on the hunting trip. The conversation began to pick up slowly, as questions directed to individuals began to be shared amongst the whole group. All except Roan, who stayed upon the tree stump, watching the rest of the party as well as the trees around them. His focus always returned to Clarke and Ontari however.

Menchay had carved up the boar, and the meat had been shared around the camp. It had been hot and satisfying. Something that Clarke had been very grateful for. The conversation had been geared around people’s great fighting exploits and tales of their victories in the fighting pits. As they always were when Azgeda warriors gathered. Clarke wondered at Roan’s silence. He had always enjoyed telling her and Ontari about his skill and victory, he usually revelled in such comraderie, but was now silent and pensive.

_ “We got to see that the queen’s little wolf pup really is as skilled as they say during the hunt today. But what about the queen’s little lark? How do we know that you are not just here because you are Nia’s treasure, sky girl?”  _ Tyla called out across the flames. They had been recalling how Ontari had helped trap the boar during the hunt, but now their attention was on Clarke.

A heavy silence fell across the camp as all eyes turned towards Clarke. Roan paused in his actions, watching over the group carefully to see what was about to happen. Ontari had visibly tensed, her jaw set and a hand curled around the hilt of her knife. She did not take kindly to someone offending her sister.

Clarke swallowed heavily, feeling the pressure of all eyes looking at her expectantly. She needed to defend herself, to prove to Tyla that she was more than just Nia’s pet. But the blood was rushing in her ears and she could feel the sweat dripping down her back. She locked eyes with Ontari, and seeing the tiny nod of the girl’s head, Ontari’s way of telling her she had her back, that Clarke could deal with this, filled her with courage.

_ “Because I am more than just the Sky Girl Tyla. That may have been who I was when I came to Azgeda, and that may have been why Nia gave me my life. But,  _ I  _ am the reason that I got to stay.  _ I _ am the reason that I am here. Because I have proven myself to be a strong healer, a good fighter. Because I am loyal to our queen and her cause.”  _ Clarke paused, her eyes flickering towards Roan for a brief moment before returning to Tyla. “ _ You do not need to question my abilities. Whilst I hope that no one gets injured, if needs be, I am happy to demonstrate my healing ability by resetting your arm after I break it.” _

Clarke let out a breath but didn’t break eye contact with Tyla. She heard some of the others laugh, but it was not a humorous laugh, more a sound of disbelief that Clarke, who was younger and smaller than all of them, had no hesitation in threatening a warrior. Ontari had a full grin on her face, her hand still on her knife. She had not expected Clarke to stand up for herself in such a way, but now that she had she didn’t doubt her sister’s ability to handle herself.

Tyla scowled, trying to act as if they hadn’t been bested by a girl.  _ “and I was always told that Nia’s lark had a pretty tongue, but it seems it’s more of a bite.” _

Clarke, in an attempt to channel Ontari’s own cockiness and strength, cocked an eyebrow.  _ “You shouldn’t believe all that you hear.” _

The others laughed again, Menchay got up and clapped Clarke on the back, hard. Tyla just maintained their scowl, not choosing to say anything. Ontari rose from her position next to them, and moved round the firepit to position herself closer to Clarke. They both shared a nod of understanding.

_ “Well played kid.”  _ Menchay said with a broad grin before returning to his position closer to the flames. Clarke allowed herself a small grin of victory before returning her face to its impassive expression. She didn’t want to risk provoking Tyla further by appearing to gloat.

As was usual for Azgeda, once a conflict between warriors had been resolved, then that was the end of the incident. The conversation around the camp fire returned to its previous discussion of what people had seen and done. But Tyla maintained their silence, just silently observing, clearly smarting from Clarke’s rebuttal. Clarke glanced their way every now and then but didn’t maintain eye contact. She was still on edge that she had hurt Tyla more than they let on.

Eventually the fire began to die down, and the wind was picking up. The conversation dwindled and so people began to drift off into their tents. Roan wanted them up early again, aiming to reach the Trikru border before nightfall. Clarke and Ontari, being the youngest and most inexperienced of the party, were left with the task of clearing up around the firepit and securing the camp for the night. Having to make sure any left-over meat was secure somewhere where it couldn’t be smelt or found by animals.

Clarke tried to stifle a yawn, unaware of how tired she was. It was something that didn’t bode well for the rest of the mission if she was already feeling the drain of it on her body. Ontari felt it as well, but like usual she was pretending to not be affected by it.

_ “Ontari”  _ Clarke called out, trying to keep her voice low so as not to disturb the others.

“ _ Mhmm” _

_ “Do you think what Tyla said was true?”  _ Clarke’s voice was shaky, the uncertainty leaking through.

_ “What do you mean Klark? You proved that they were wrong” _

_ “Did I? I only said those things because I needed to and because I knew it was what everyone needed to hear. But what if-“  _ Clarke paused, chewing on her lip,  _ “what if I actually am not good enough, what if Nia only selected me for this mission because she had chosen you and she knew she needed to send me out at some point.” _

Ontari paused in what she was doing to turn towards Clarke.  _ “Klark, we’ve spoken about this. Nia doesn’t do anything without believing in it. She would not have chosen you if you weren’t ready. She is not a fool. She makes everyone work for everything, she does not hand out free passes or give opportunities to those she likes just because she likes them. That is not how a good leader rules.” _

Clarke dropped Ontari’s gaze. She knew she was right. Because Nia could be benevolent, but she was never foolishly kind. There was no space for unfettered kindness amongst the Azgeda, it was not how they lived. But the doubts still couldn’t be shaken. And she just wanted to prove to Nia that she was worth all the effort that the queen had expended on her.

_ “You should listen to Ontari Klark, mother never does anything lightly. Not even for me.”  _ Roan’s voice cut through the darkness as he approached the pair from the direction of his tent.

Both girls turned to look at him. He had been silent all night, and apparently for most of the hunting trip according to Ontari. From the look on his face throughout the day, Roan had been deep in thought, ruminating on whatever it was that was going through his mind. Ontari suspected that it had to do with whatever he had spoken to Nia about before they had left the fortress.

_ “I do listen to Ontari, most of the time.”  _ Clarke grumbled. She was annoyed at herself for letting Roan see her weakness. She had wanted to impress him on this mission, prove that all of his training had actually paid off. Not to appear as insecure and weak.

_ “After what you said to Tyla, I think you probably spend too much time listening to Ontari.”  _ There was just the hint of humour in Roan’s voice as he spoke, but he levelled his gaze at Clarke in a serious way.

_ “Hey!”  _ Ontari offered in protest, although she also agreed with Roan: not the Clarke spending too much time with her part, but what Clarke having said being reminiscent of Ontari’s own sharp tongue, that she could agree with.

Clarke could feel the heat rising up the back of her neck as she chewed on her lip. Roan had been completely impassive throughout the entire altercation so that she hadn’t even been sure he had been paying attention. Obviously, he had. And now she was sure she was going to be getting into trouble for disrespecting a higher-ranking warrior.

“ _ I know it was disrespectful, but what they said made me angry. I shouldn’t have to defend myself about where I come from anymore! I’ve proven to Nia that I am Azgeda. Why isn’t that enough for everyone else?”  _ Clarke was trying to maintain a level tone, but her frustration over the whole affair and her worry about what Roan was going to say crept into her voice.

Roan stepped closer to Clarke, reaching out he laid his hand upon her shoulder. “ _ Klark, I am not going to reprimand you for what you said. It showed your strength and determination – as well as how good a liar you are –“  _ He raised an eyebrow in amusement at this comment, as all three of them knew that Clarke would never have carried through with her threat. She would have got Ontari to do it. “ _ \- but I am going to caution you. The pair of you.”  _ Roan glanced at Ontari briefly. “ _ You cannot afford to allow a comment, or an insult to get under your skin the way you permitted Tyla to do so today. Not from one of our own, and  _ especially _ not from the enemy. _

_ “Being singled out by Nia means that there will be jealousy directed towards you. People find release in jealousy by insulting you. By giving you names –“ _

_ “-Little wolf pup” _

_ “-Little lark” _

Ontari, then Clarke, interjected. Roan nodded his head in agreement.

“ _ Exactly. You cannot allow them to win. You are better than that. And you are in charge of your emotions. You must remember this. Focus on it. So that next time someone calls you out, you can rise above them, brush off their jealousy and prove why you are better than they are. Do you understand?”  _ Roan looked between both girls, watching for their nods of agreement.

Clarke felt a whole swirl of emotions. She was embarrassed that Roan had felt the need to go out of his way to remind her to pay no mind to those who may tease her. But he had also complimented her, and the constant need for reassurance that she had felt all day was satisfied by this. Although knowing that she would continuously have to prove to the rest of Azgeda that she truly was good enough was an exhausting thought.

“ _ Good. Now, go to bed. We have an early start and a long way to travel tomorrow and I want you both to be at your best.”  _ Roan had slipped into his teacher voice, something that both girls had missed. Clarke smiled at him as she turned towards the tent, Ontari close behind her.

“ _ Tomorrow you will both show them why Nia chose you.”  _ Roan called out after the girls. He pretended not to care that both of them appeared to straighten up at the praise. He pretended he did not care whether either of them succeeded beyond the fact that he had administered most of their training. But he did care. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally said that I was going to update every sunday, and clearly that has fallen through. I'm still going to try and keep that as my goal, but despite having like 0 contact hours, my MA is still taking up more time than I thought it was going to, so I may sometimes have a fortnight between updates. But I am going to try to never leave it longer than that!
> 
> Feel free to shout at me if I do leave it longer than that!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know... I am so sorry. Trust me I am well aware that maximum of two weeks between updates just turned into a month. I have made quite a bit of headway with the next chapter though so im hoping the wait won't be as long next time!
> 
> I had serious writers block and then like loads of stuff happened. But I really hope you're still here reading this! 
> 
> I'd like to think that this chapter is pretty good and that it'll make people less mad! :D 
> 
> There's only going to be one more chapter at this time period before we get to the main crux of the story, which I'm both nervous and looking forward to writing!
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 9**

 

 

The air had been less tense the next morning, once they had left camp. Everyone having bonded over a good meal and warrior’s stories. With the exception that Tyla refused to look at Clarke, clearly still bitter about the previous night’s rebuttal. Clarke herself had woken with a new determination. She wasn’t going to let the insecurities of the past few days influence her behaviour from this moment onwards. Roan said that he believed in her, everyone else said that Nia trusted her, she had to have faith in herself.

Clarke and Ontari rode alongside one another, feeding off one another’s energy, their anticipation for the day, and the mission. Ontari was excited, she had never left the Azgeda territory before. And now she was getting to cross into Trikru land with the express purpose of gathering intel for the queen. She would get to observe and see how the Trikru lived without having to actually interact with the villains. She wanted to learn all that she could, to return to Nia victorious, to prove that she was stronger than her sister had been; to help take down the girl who had bested her sister at the conclave.

As they travelled further south, the trees around them began to change. There were fewer firs and instead larger broad leaf trees. There was a veritable wall of green; a complete contrast to the still mostly brown and barren landscape of the Azgeda north. For them, spring had only just begun to make its appearance. Among the Trikru it was well underway.

Jacks revelled in the start of spring, after all it had been a long and hard winter. And as they rode further, albeit in a more comfortable silence, he took it upon himself to break through their impenetrable façade. It startled Clarke, when out of nowhere Jacks began to sing. It was just a drinking song, but it seemed to have the desired effect of raising Jacks, and the other’s, spirits. He’d been expecting the others to join in, but the Azgeda were nothing if not stoic and sensible, and so left the vocalisation to Jacks alone. Although Menchay did hum along. Bette and Hope, both well used to Jacks’ antics, rolled their eyes, and muttered under their breaths about his immaturity, but they still smiled. 

It made the ride move faster. As jabs and insults were exchanged between Jacks and Bette, and Menchay was called out for joining in. Clarke found herself laughing at the others, and conversing freely with Ontari. This had been what she had hoped going on a mission would feel like. To bond with the other warriors, to have fun whilst also being aware that they had a mission to undertake. It was what being a warrior was meant to be.

Roan tried to maintain his aloof and stoic mask, playing the role of Party Leader and High General of the army. But, as Clarke and Ontari both knew, he possessed a fun streak and whilst it was subtle, he was not above adding the odd comment to the group’s raucous enjoyment here and there.

Until they got in sight of the Trikru border that was.

He suddenly pulled his horse to a halt, and raised his fist in the air. The others followed suit, stilling the horses, and holding their breath, a silence falling over the party as they all watched Roan. He wheeled the animal round to face the warriors. His brow drawn down as his face became serious.

_ “We are approaching the border. We cannot complete our mission unless we move with the utmost stealth and caution. Remember, we are not to be seen.”  _ Roan, although his voice was quiet, could still command the attention of an entire army, not just a raiding party.

Clarke felt a sense of dread grow in the pit of her stomach. They were about to cross the border. This was when the mission moved from a ride through their own territory to an actual task given by Nia. It had become real and the weight of how much her actions would count settled on her. Now was the time to prove oneself.

_ “Menchay, lead the way.” _

The silence was disconcerting as everyone became serious and deliberate in their actions. They followed Menchay through the forest at little more than a walk.

_ “Keep your wits about you.”  _ Menchay said over his shoulder, his voice little more than a whisper. “ _ The Trikru like to hide in the trees.”  _ At the warning everybody’s head shot up to stare at the canopy above them, to see if the Trikru would already be there, waiting for them.

Clarke’s heart was thumping so loudly in her chest that she was almost certain the others could hear it. In an attempt to remain as silent as possible her breaths were shallow, and almost a little painful as she willed herself to be quieter. It was harder than she had expected, to walk completely silent through the forest. It was one thing to slip through the stone corridors of the fortress undetected, but it was another to be seated atop a horse and treading one’s way through the undergrowth without making a sound. You could cut the tension amongst the party with a knife, and Clarke’s hand never strayed far from her own.

She wondered where within Trikru territory they were heading. If Nia wanted information on the Commander then surely, they should be heading towards Polis. But they were less likely to be able to enter Polis undetected, and Nia already had spies in place in the capital. But maybe the Commander wasn’t in Polis? In which case they would be heading towards wherever the Commander was. But if she had left the capital then she would likely have more guards travelling with her as security, which would make getting close enough to gain information far more difficult. Besides, Clarke knew that Nia already had spies close to the Commander, embedded deep within her personal guard. So, wherever they were heading was most likely somewhere where the Commander was not. Which meant it was a different kind of information about the Commander that they were gathering.

Clarke was using these thoughts to distract herself from the fear that was thrumming through her veins. She knew she shouldn’t be afraid. She was an Azgeda warrior, she could fend for herself. But she was scared that she wouldn’t be quiet enough. That she would slip up and give away their position. But it was more than just the mission. The trees around them were eerily quiet. Only the odd sound of animals and birds could be heard beyond the rustling of the wind. So different than the woods at home.

The trees around her brought to mind the stories she’d heard warriors tell of the Repas that presided within the Trikru territory. Of the lost warriors, gone mad with the power of the Maunon, who tore apart any living thing they came across. The Repas were more than just a story. They were a very real threat to the Trikru people, and now that she was in Trikru land, they were a threat to her as well. Clarke had no desire to come face to face with one if she could help it.

The pace felt so much slower now that they had crossed the border than it had done the day before. Night would be falling soon, and it was unclear how much further they would have to travel the next morning, as Roan still hadn’t told anyone but Menchay their destination. Maybe Roan would say something once they made camp, but it wasn’t likely.

It was almost dusk on their second day into Trikru territory when Roan called for them to stop. The clearing was smaller than the one they had inhabited the day before, but it was sheltered enough that they may go undetected. They were closer to Trikru villages now and Roan didn’t want to risk a hunting exhibition so far into Trikru land, so they ate what was left of the boar, and some of the food that the villagers had given them.

Roan maintained a serious mask the entire evening. He was tense, they all were. It meant that there was no rousing conversation. No loud debates and stories. So vastly different from when they had been in their own land. Clarke could still feel Tyla eyeing her up suspiciously from the other side of camp. It made her skin crawl. She kept Tyla in her line of sight the entire evening, but didn’t engage with them. There was no need when she had the others to converse with.

It wasn’t too long before the night had fully settled around them and the exhaustion from the day, as well as the anticipation for the next, began to be felt amongst the entire camp. Clarke could already feel the heavy weight of sleep calling her, and it was only the cold that was keeping her awake. As Jacks took up first watch, Clarke and Ontari crawled into their tent.

Clarke had never been more grateful for the pile of furs as she was in that moment. She barely managed to pull off her boots before diving beneath them. Ontari chuckled as Clarke buried herself inside a warm cocoon but she didn’t say anything. By the time Ontari had secured the tent and tidied away their belongings Clarke was almost asleep, barely even registering when she crawled into bed beside her. Apparently the last few days had taken more of a toll than she had thought.

Ontari shaking Clarke roughly woke her from the deep sleep she had fallen into. It wasn’t a welcome interruption.

_ “Get up,”  _ Ontari hissed, pushing Clarke once more. Clarke rolled over and rubbed at her face, it was still dark out.

_ “Why are you waking me?”  _ She grumbled, head already lolling back to the side.

_ “Because Roan has got everyone up.”  _ Ontari snapped. There was no time for Clarke to be stubborn, not when Roan was expecting them all to gather, ready for whatever he had in mind. “ _ Move!” _

At the sound of Ontari snapping at her, Clarke forced herself up and off the floor of the tent. She kicked the furs to the side and immediately wished she hadn’t as the cold of the night went straight to her bones. At least she was awake now. Ontari was fumbling around, pulling her boots on and trying to gather her things. Her brain still foggy and clouded with sleep, Clarke began to do the same.

Clarke stumbled out of the tent after Ontari, hastily wrapping her coat around to stave off the chill. Clarke followed Ontari to where the others stood in the centre of the camp, all facing Roan and shivering from the cold and abrupt disturbance. But they were all more noticeably put together than Clarke and Ontari (they had had practice in impromptu wakeups on mission).

Once Roan had seen that the whole party had gathered he wasted no time in giving out orders.

_ “We are making our approach to the Trikru village tonight. Bette, you will stay behind in camp along with Klark and Ontari--“ _

_ “But--“  _ Ontari tried to interject, but Roan continued on as if she hadn’t even spoken. He barely even glanced at the girls, eyes flickering from one party member to another as he spoke.

_ “Pack up the camp, make sure to leave no trace that we were even here. Do you understand? The Trikru cannot know that we were ever in their land. The three of you will meet us at the Ash grove, just north of here. Everyone else, you’re with me. Let’s move.” _

It was as if someone had flipped a switch, as everyone suddenly sprang into action. Racing to their tents to collect their weapons and any supplies before heading towards the horses. Clarke, Ontari and Bette stayed stood in the centre of camp. Watching everyone as they peeled away through the trees, following behind Roan.

_ “Why did he leave us behind?”  _ Ontari asked, but it was quiet, directed more to the trees around them then to any person. Nonetheless, Bette took it upon herself to answer.

_ “Because you are both so green that you would jeopardise the mission.”  _ Bette had no malice in her tone, and no complaint at also being left behind. Instead she headed towards her tent and began the process of packing up the camp. She had her orders and she would follow them.

Ontari was still staring after the rest of the group, her hands balled into fists. She was angry that Roan had left her behind. That after all his encouragement he didn’t think she was good enough to actually participate in the mission.

Clarke was deep in thought. It was meant to be a reconnaissance mission, which meant there should have been no reason why herself or Ontari wouldn’t be able to go. They could both be stealthy, despite her initial worry upon crossing the border. They were good observers. Nia had insisted on it.

_ “They’re not gathering information, are they?”  _ Clarke called out towards Bette.

_ “Does it matter?”  _ She replied, not bothering to look up from her work. “ _ We have our orders. Do not concern yourself with the others, and actually do what Roan has asked of you.” _

Clarke sighed, but she headed towards their tent anyhow. She grabbed hold of Ontari’s arm on her way, pulling the other girl behind her. Ontari shook her off, and seemingly shook off her shocked daze.

The pair began to take down their tent after stuffing their belongings into their packs. “ _ What do you think this mission is really about?” _ Clarke whispered to Ontari, glancing back at Bette who was huffing in annoyance at the girls’ slow pace.

_ “How would I know? I’m not good enough to actually go on it.”  _ Ontari spat out, causing Clarke to roll her eyes. If Ontari had thought she was being petulant and immature before with needing all that reassurance, it was now Ontari’s turn to act like a child.

_ “Neither am I Tari. But even if we’re not getting to participate in whatever it is that Roan’s actually doing, Nia still selected for us to come this far. That means something. Besides, it wasn’t like we would get to do anything actually important our first time beyond the fortress.” _

Ontari stopped in her actions to look at Clarke. She was still annoyed, but her scowl evened out slightly.  _ “Fine.”  _ She muttered. “ _ But I still don’t know what it’s about. Something important and secret if Roan’s actions since we left the fortress are anything to go by.” _

_ “I thought the same.”  _ Clarke had a thousand thoughts running through her head. Wondering about all the possibilities of what this mission could actually be about. Ontari was right, in that whatever it was, Nia didn’t want it to leave their party. Possibly for it to not even leave between her and Roan if the surprise on the others’ faces had been anything to go by.

_ “Are you two actually doing any work?”  _ Bette suddenly snapped from across the clearing as she hoisted another pack onto her horse.

Clarke and Ontari shared a brief look before returning to the task in front of them. Roan hadn’t given them a time frame for when they should meet up again, but it was safe to assume that they needed to have cleared out by daybreak.

As Clarke hoisted another pack onto her horse she felt bad for the animals. They were carrying far more weight than when they had set out. The others had left their tents and any non-essentials behind when they had left, which meant that the remaining three horses were having to carry the brunt of it.

It also meant that Clarke and the others had to tidy up everyone else’s mess. Despite her reassurances to Ontari that this was what they should have expected from their first mission, it wasn’t what Clarke had had in mind. She hadn’t expected to actually get to participate in much actual action, but she at least thought she could have gone with them, she was the healer after all.

The fact that Roan had left the group healer behind worried Clarke more than being disregarded did. Despite her trepidation over the task, she knew it would be better for everyone involved if she had gone with Roan and the others; just in case. Which made her question Roan’s behaviour even more because it suggested that whatever he was planning was more urgent than ensuring the party would be safe.

But it had already been proved to her multiple times that it was useless to questions Roan’s motives and decisions. He was just as stubborn, and had the tendency to be as secretive, as his mother. No matter how much he trusted the girls.

“ _ Klark. Come on.”  _ Bette called across the clearing, breaking through Clarke’s reverie. She and Ontari were both already mounted onto their horses, and Bette had an impatient look on her face. Clarke scrambled onto her own horse, kicking it forward as quickly as she could.

Bette had repeatedly shown her frustration at the girls’ lack of effort in clearing up the camp, which should have been more worrying for Clarke and Ontari because it was likely that she would be reporting back to Roan, and possibly even Nia, about their progress. But Ontari was still moping over being left behind, and Clarke was too busy trying to sort through the questions and scenarios that were running through her head.

Bette’s impatience had the effect of causing them to move quickly through the trees as she pushed the horses harder. The consequence of this being that when they reached the Ash Grove, the animals were frothing at the mouth, and they had even longer to wait for Roan and the rest of the party to join them.

Ontari dismounted as soon as they pulled to a stop, the pout had returned to her face as she leant against the tree trunk her horse was tied to. Clarke spared her a glance, noticing the way that Ontari was pretending to be unaffected with the way she toyed with the tip of her blade. Ontari’s façade wasn’t just up for the benefit of Bette, but to also try and convince herself that she didn’t care about Roan. It wasn’t working, and it certainly wasn’t convincing the other two either.

Clarke filled a small bowl with some of the water from her water-skin, cautiously attempting to get her horse to drink. The animal did, but slowly, repeatedly stopping to eye Clarke suspiciously. “One day you’ll like me.” She muttered under her breath.

It was only after she’d said it that she realised she was speaking in Gonasleng. Something she hadn’t done in some time. It felt strange, foreign on her tongue. Which was a peculiar realisation when she thought to how for the first years of her life it had been the only language she had known. And yes, occasionally the other warriors spoke it, but it wasn’t often, and everyone always spoke to Clarke in Trigedasleng. Those few words transported Clarke back to so long ago that it felt like her memories were of a whole different person. A person Clarke was happy she had left behind in a drop ship that had long since been buried beneath the snow.

Clarke was staring up at the sky through the canopy of branches that stretched above her head, watching as the sky shifted from its deep inky blue to the light grey and burnt orange and pink of dawn. It was kind of hypnotic, to watch the colours shift and change. It also acted as a good background to think; not about anything in particular, just letting her mind wander and roam wherever it wanted. Only occasionally disrupted by Ontari sighing or the huff of one of the horses.

They sound of horses racing across the forest floor caused all three of them to start from their silence. Clarke’s first thought was that they had been discovered by the Trikru. Or maybe it was even the Repas. Her blood ran cold at the idea.

Clarke scrambled to untie her horse from the tree trunk and mount it. She almost dropped the arrow as she attempted to notch her bow. Ontari had drawn her sword and Bette already had an arrow pointed in the direction of the sound.

Clarke’s breath was caught in her throat as the sound of horses’ hooves grew closer. The three of them had formed a line, facing the trees, the light not enough to give them a clear view of who was approaching. She could hear the rush of blood in her ears and her heart thrumming in her chest. Whoever was approaching was doing so in a hurry. Travelling on the fury of an invaded clan.

She felt herself tense as the sound increased. As they drew closer. Arm drawn back, she no longer shook with the strain as she had once done, but held her position. She didn’t know what their first move would be, but it would be down to Bette to make that decision.

“ _ Hold”  _ Bette breathed out, not looking away from the tree line. She wasn’t going to attack first, whoever was approaching knew that they were there, attacking first wouldn’t gain them anything.

Ontari shifted her grip on the sword hilt, the excitement and anticipation of an actual fight bubbled upwards. It was what she had been hoping for. To feel the clash of steel and the adrenaline of her life being on the line. But there was something off in the sound of the horses. The Trikru were known for moving silently. Whoever was approaching was most definitely not moving silently. Which suggested Repas. But underneath the sound of hooves, and the heavy breathing of the others she heard something else.

_ “It’s Roan.”  _ Ontari suddenly called out, startling Bette and Clarke.  Bette turned towards Ontari with a scowl but Ontari carried on before she could say anything. “ _ I thought it was a bird call, but we’re too far south –” _

Ontari didn’t get to finish her explanation as the approaching party broke through the trees and into the grove. Roan barely spared the three of them a glance, not wasting time to question why they had their weapons drawn.

_ “Let’s move!”  _ He called out as he passed, the rest of the party racing along behind him. It took a moment for Clarke and the others to realise what Roan had said and then to fall in behind. He hadn’t even bothered to slow down enough to communicate the message, maintaining the same gruelling pace since they had left the Trikru village.

Clarke could see how the others’ horses were tiring, foaming at the mouth. Roan had a strangely shaped bundle thrown over the front of his horse. The others were all severely out of breath, pushing themselves to keep up with Roan who had a determined snarl on his face.

Ontari tried to draw up alongside him, to see if she could find out what had gone down. But he didn’t even glance her way, his concentration solely set on making it back as close to the Azgeda border, possibly even across it if they could manage, before having to stop or being discovered by Trikru. Of course, his silence did nothing to abate Ontari’s curiosity, it just caused it to fester and grow as they rode. The silence filling her head with a thousand questions and theories, and Roan, not allowing her to get close to him, just perpetuated them all.

Clarke tried a different approach. It was obvious that Roan wasn’t in the headspace to hold a conversation, and he had been secretive enough throughout this entire mission, so the likelihood that he would divulge what the girls’ wanted to know was slim. So instead of badgering the leader, she turned towards someone else.

Clarke drew her horse up next to Hope. Hope had been encouraging enough towards Clarke and Ontari throughout the whole trip, and with Jacks being quiet for the first time since they had left the fortress, Menchay maintaining his trademark stoicism and low browed glare, and Tyla still eyeing Clarke suspiciously, she was also Clarke’s only port of call.

Clarke wanted to wait for the opportune moment with which to question Hope, but Roan had been pushing them harder and harder to maintain their gruelling pace. The wind whipping the ends of her braids across her face, and causing her eyes to stream meant every action took more effort as each breath was a conscious exertion of energy expelled against nature. Striking up a casual conversation wasn’t something that appeared feasible to Clarke. But her curiosity had never faded at an obstacle before, it only grew with resistance.

_ “What was it like?”  _ Clarke asked Hope, trying to maintain some semblance of the Azgeda indifference. Hope didn’t answer, she didn’t even look her way. Clarke sighed and tried again.  _ “What was the mission like?” _

Hope briefly turned and glanced at Clarke, confusion written across her face.  _ “Did you say something?” _

_ “Umm yes. I asked how the mission was.” _

Hope gave Clarke a strange look that she couldn’t place.  _ “The mission went.”  _ Was the only response she was given, Hope turning her attention back to the forest in front of them. Her face the impassive mask that Clarke knew so well. But the fact that Hope had so quickly reverted to it told Clarke that she was hiding something, or making a conscious effort to keep things concealed.

_ “Yeah, but what were you doing?”  _ Clarke said, in an attempt to question her again. She didn’t know if Hope failed to hear her once more, or if she was acting as if she did, either way Clarke got no response. It was infuriating, being treated like a child who the adults kept secrets from. This mission was meant to solidify hers and Ontari’s positions within the army. But it seemed like everyone else was trying to hinder that.

Clarke had no idea how long Roan kept them moving or how far they had gotten, but the sun was high in the sky by the time Menchay called out.  _ “We have to stop.” _

His voice carried across the group, causing Roan to slow slightly.  _ “We keep going until we reach the border.”  _ He called back. Roan had made up his mind, he wasn’t going to risk the integrity of the mission just because the others were so weak as to grow tired. As for the horses, they could switch them for fresh ones at the first Azgeda village they came across.

_ “Roan we have to stop.”   _ Menchay called out again, louder this time, as if that would be what would get his point across. But Roan was stubborn and didn’t always respond well when his authority was questioned. Menchay was ignored, and instead Roan began to push his horse harder, the poor creature struggling to keep up with its master’s commands.

_ “We won’t make it to the border unless we stop!”  _ Menchay shouted this time, pulling his horse to a halt as if to reiterate his point. The others all slowed but didn’t stop. Glancing at one another nervously. Clarke agreed with Menchay, they did need to take a break, but she didn’t want to disobey a direct order from their Prince. And it seemed that the others all felt the same.

Roan glanced behind him as the pounding of horses’ hooves ceased in its relentless ferocity. Ontari and Clarke could both see the visible sigh he exhaled upon looking at his party for the first time in hours. Ontari noticed the way his gaze switched between them and the black bundle atop his horse, weighing up his options.

Roan didn’t want to be seen to be giving in to a subordinate, he was the High General of the Azgeda army: their Prince. But he also had a reputation for being a fair leader, understanding of the limits of his warriors. And the party behind him had clearly reached theirs.

“ _ How far away from the border are we?”  _ Roan asked Menchay, not taking his eyes off the older man. Menchay took a moment to take stock of their surroundings: to mark the position of the sun in the sky; to see what fauna was growing around them; the quality of the soil; the sound of wildlife.

_ “Less than a day’s ride, but too far to push the horses, even at a slower pace Prince.” _

Roan sighed as he mulled over their options. “ _ We will stop, but only once we find a suitable place, away from any tracks or villages. Until then, we will go at a slower pace.” _

Menchay wanted to argue for a more immediate stop, but knew that this offer was the best they were going to get so he had to acquiesce. As Roan began to move again, the others all followed behind him, but at a much more suitable pace. Clarke glanced over her shoulder to see Menchay and Jacks had yet to move, but upon seeing Clarke spot them they kicked their horses’ flanks and re-joined the party. The sight worried Clarke, they seemed to have had a guilty look on their faces when they had noticed her watching them. She hadn’t heard them speaking, but the possibility that they were thinking of disobeying Roan was there. Menchay may have been right in asking Roan to stop, but it had also been objecting to the orders of the Prince which was a punishable offence within the army.

But Menchay and Jacks wouldn’t do anything to disrupt or sabotage the Azgeda cause. Clarke knew that. She knew just how loyal to Nia and Roan they both were. Her fears were unfounded, and she was just allowing her imagination to run wild, she had had too much time to think over the last few days and it was getting to her.

As was the long ride. If she had been tired the evening before she was even more so now. Somehow the slower pace was making her feel the drain of the mission even more so then pushing herself had done. They were all running on very little sleep. Her back was aching, and her foot had started to cramp a while back. But the desire to never show any weakness was strong enough and so deeply ingrained that Clarke knew that she would never complain, or even let the pain and discomfort show on her face.

Eventually however, Roan seemed to have found a satisfying enough place to rest. He led them all towards a clearing that was sheltered enough that they should be able to get a few hours of rest without having to have more than one lookout. Clarke could feel the relief in her bones as she dismounted her horse and felt solid ground beneath her feet again. She had approached Ontari, neither of them were talking, but being close to her sister was a calming experience.

They were sharing Ontari’s water skin when Clarke heard Jacks give out a loud and painful grunt as he dismounted from his horse. The sound wouldn’t have normally drawn Clarke’s attention the way it did, Jacks was always vocal and complaining, but he hadn’t spoken a word since the others had joined them at the Ash Grove which was unusual. And suddenly hearing his voice again made Clarke start and realise just how quiet he had been.

Clarke walked over to him, he was leaning heavily against his horse, his brow covered in sweat – which again wouldn’t have been unusual based on the amount of effort they had exerted on the ride – but there was something about him that didn’t look right.

_ “Jacks, are you alright?”  _ Clarke asked tentatively, not wanting to offend him if he was just out of breath.

It seemed to take a lot of effort for him to seek out the person who had spoken to him. Clarke watched the way he shifted himself awkwardly, so he was more upright, letting out another grunt through gritted teeth.

_ “The bitch stabbed me.”  _ He spat out. It was then that Clarke noticed the way he had a hand pressed against his side.

_ “Shit.”  _ Clarke said, immediately rushing to Jacks side, and gently forcing him down on the ground so that his back was pressed up against a tree trunk. “ _ Ontari grab my bag”  _ Clarke called over her shoulder, attracting the attention of the others.

Later Clarke would look back and marvel at the way she didn’t freak out and panic at being faced with the exact thing she had been worried about for the entirety of the mission. But in the moment, she managed to maintain her focus on Jacks and the wound in his side. It was only shallow, but he had lost a fair bit of blood and it was clearly painful.

_ “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”  _ Clarke chastised under her breath as Ontari returned, dropping the bag on the floor next to where Clarke knelt.

_ “There were more pressing matters.”  _ Jacks said through gritted teeth, “ _ Didn’t seem like that big of a deal.” _

_ “Idiot.”  _ Hope said, adding her voice to the conversation, as she dropped down beside Clarke with a water skin in hand. Clarke turned to her and gave a brief nod in acknowledgment as she began to clean Jacks’ wound.

“ _ What bitch stabbed you?”  _ Ontari asked from behind Clarke. Clarke paused in her workings to glance up at Jacks’ face, watching the way his expression briefly flickered between pain and panic, before settling back on pain. Of course, Ontari would have picked up on something like that. She had been waiting for a moment to be able to find out what was going on.

Hope glanced towards Roan and Menchay who were on the other side of the clearing. Clarke risked following her gaze for just a moment, but she couldn’t make out what they were doing. Ontari, not tied down with trying to patch Jacks back up, took a few steps closer to the Prince to find out what was going on.

Roan seemed to sense her approach and looked up before Ontari could ask anything. Ontari paused, watching Roan carefully, he was eyeing her back just as cautiously. But then he stepped aside, still watching Ontari’s face, to reveal a Trikru girl tied to the tree behind him. Menchay was knelt beside her, securing the fastenings that kept her bound.

The girl was awake, a deep-set scowl on her face. She was looking unblinkingly at Ontari, eyeing her up the same way Ontari was eyeing her. Ontari went to take a step towards the girl, to get a closer look but then seemed to change her mind. Instead she turned to look at Roan.

“ _ This is who Nia sent us to get?”  _ She asked him, Roan could see the cogs turning in her mind. She was trying to work out who the girl was and how she was connected to the Commander. And why the whole mission had been kept a secret. Roan gave a single nod in response.  _ “Who is she?” _

_ “Her name is Costia.”  _

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Ontari complete there first ever mission as warriors and learn that nothing is ever as simple as it seems when it comes to Nia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so I know its been like 3 weeks again since I last updated. BUT this chapter is like super looong!
> 
> I didn't intend for it it to take me this long before I updated, nor for this chapter to turn out to be almost 16k words and 26 pages! [side note: this chapter alone is longer than my MA dissertation is allowed to be! and I have now written over 100 pages in total which is the most I've ever written for one thing ever] But I did say that this was going to be the last one of Clarke at this age before we got to the age where the main part of the story takes place. and it turns out I had like loads of ideas and little things I wanted to include for this last bit of the story (mainly to do with clarke-ontari-roan bonding). Also I couldn't find a good place to split the chapter in two, otherwise I would have updated with like a first part before now. 
> 
> I wrote this chapter differently from all of my others because I kept having ideas for scenes that were all over the story map and so I kind of wrote all the main conversation and important bits separately and then had to find ways to transition between them, which is why it took me so long. 
> 
> But I'm super nervous to share this chapter because I'm not sure how you're going to respond to it. But I can't spend anymore time on it!
> 
> Warning: There are references to violence in this chapter. I haven't gone into any detail, and anything slightly more graphic is just referred to by the characters (mainly because I'm not confident in writing violence and action cohesively)
> 
> Please let me know what you think?! :)

**Chapter 10**

 

 

Clarke had finished cleaning Jacks’ wound and was waiting for Bette to get the fire going hot enough so that she could cauterise it. The bleeding had stopped a while ago according to Jacks, but Clarke didn’t want to risk an infection, despite Jacks protesting that a bandage would be enough. She couldn’t risk the first person she healed in the field dying.

Whilst waiting for her cauterising blade (it was really just a blank file of metal, but unlike a knife its surface was flat which meant she could cover more surface) to heat up, Clarke’s (and the others’) attention had all turned towards Roan and Ontari.

The girl tied to the tree had her focus on Roan and Ontari, watching the two interact. Most of the others were doing the same, but Clarke had seen enough of their arguments and stubborn debates to be able to picture the exact expressions on both of their faces. Instead she eyed the Trikru girl up. She couldn’t have been older than Ontari, and she only had a few of the tattoos so popular amongst her clan. Clarke was too far away to see how many kill-marks the girl had, but she didn’t look like much of a warrior.

_ “What are we going to do with her?”  _ Ontari asked Roan, her voice calm and devoid of emotion. Nia would have approved of the control Ontari had in this moment.

_ “Take her to Nia.”  _ Was all Roan replied with, but it was enough for everyone to understand why they had taken the girl in the first place. If Nia wanted her, and presumably wanted her alive, it wasn’t just to hurt the Commander, or even to threaten her by showing how they could take someone from within her clan’s lands. Nia wanted her for information. Nia wanted this girl because she believed it would do more than just hurt the Commander. Clarke didn’t know who she was, but she was someone that Nia could use to break the Commander. That made her valuable. Ontari just nodded her head in response to Roan, but Clarke knew she was thinking the same thing that she was.

There was a pause, a silence within the camp.

Clarke didn’t know how long it would have lasted for, if not for Jacks letting out a groan of pain as the idiot tried to move, despite Clarke telling him to stay still. The sound caused everyone to start moving again, as if it pierced a film of quiet and reminded everyone of where they were. Clarke turned her attention back to the wounded man, placing a hand on his shoulder she firmly pushed him back down against the tree.

“ _ Did I say you could move yet, idiot?”  _ she reprimanded, Jacks just rolled his eyes, his teeth still gritted in pain. She glanced towards Bette and the fire to see if the blade was ready or not.  _ “This is going to hurt,”  _ she warned him. Jacks grunted in response. “ _ But if you don’t scream I’ll reward you with some willow root.”  _ Clarke didn’t want to admit it, but it was rather fun treating him like a child, and the mention of the painkiller did seem to make him stop trying to get up and move which would help make her job easier.

When the blade was hot enough, Bette brought it over. Clarke was grateful that she’d also managed to find a small enough piece of wood, wrapped in a strip of cloth, for Jacks to bite down on. Hope was boiling some water over the fire in preparation for making a tea with the willow root.

_ “Are you ready?”  _ Clarke asked him as she took the blade in her hand. It was taking a lot of willpower for her to force her hand not to shake. Her initial burst of confidence had ebbed away, and she was beginning to worry that she wouldn’t be able to cauterise the wound right and that she would make things worse. She’d only cauterised a wound once before. She’d watched other people do it countless times, but she had only had practice once and that had been back at the hospital under the supervision of a more experienced healer. But now wasn’t the time for her to get stuck in her own head.

Clarke took a deep breath and made an effort to not look at Jacks’ face, or at Bette either for that matter. Instead she tried to focus on the feel of the blade in her hand and the wound in front of her. She was tentative at first, scared of doing more damage than healing, but the moment the blade touched his skin, her training took over and Clarke found herself operating on autopilot. On the memory of doing it before, of seeing it done. Of the knowledge she had about the importance of cauterising. She pushed the blade down hard and gritted her teeth against the stench of burning flesh and the sound Jacks’ was making. She was grateful that Bette had taken the initiative to hold him down because he was squirming and groaning from the pain.

It was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Clarke drew the blade away to reveal the pinkened and charred flesh, but the wound was sealed and no longer at risk of infection. Jacks took the wood out of his mouth, panting from the pain. His pupils had dilated, and seemed to grow even larger when he looked down at his side. His hand held to his nose to try and block the smell.

Clarke felt her muscles relax as the tension seeped from her shoulders.  _ “I thought you’d almost been killed twice?”  _ She said to Jacks in a teasing tone, trying to take both of their minds off of the ordeal.

“ _ Yeah, well I didn’t have my skin burnt off.”  _ He muttered between pants.

Bette swatted him gently on the shoulder. “ _ Baby.” _

Clarke chuckled lightly, scared that the stress was going to cause her to lose control of her emotions and lead to hysterics if she didn’t keep a lid on it. She was gentler in wrapping the wound in clean bandages.

Clarke got up and left Jacks with Bette and Hope as soon as the tea had been brought over to him. Her hands were shaking slightly from the loss of adrenaline as she sat herself down beside Ontari in front of the fire. Silently, Ontari handed Clarke a water skin and some meat. Clarke chewed on the food absently. She instinctively rested her head on her sister’s shoulder, forgetting about the Azgeda customs against showing affection in public. The others’ pretended not to notice as Ontari rested her hand against Clarke’s hair, stroking it gently. She could feel the stress radiating off of her and knew that Clarke just needed the reassurance.

Roan had spotted the pair by the fire whilst he had been talking to Tyla about taking the next shift to watch over Costia from Menchay. Clarke didn’t bother to look up when he came and sat down beside her. Ontari turned to face Roan, she could see the tension in the way his jaw and neck was set. This mission was getting to him.

_ “You did a good job Klark,”  _ Roan said, his voice was quiet so that only the three of them could hear what he was saying. Clarke made a sound in response, now that she was sat down and had had something to eat, the loss of the adrenaline meant all she wanted to do was curl up beneath some furs and sleep.

_ “You as well Ontari,”  _ Roan added, “ _ you’ve both held your own. Nia will be proud of you.” _

Ontari didn’t know what to say in response, she didn’t particularly feel like she had achieved a lot, but she wasn’t going to argue with Roan about positive praise. She offered him a smile. They didn’t speak after that, instead they just sat by the small fire in silence. The three of them being together felt like it had done years ago, before Roan had had so much responsibility in the army, when he had been around more to spend time training the girls. There had been nights when they had been younger when the three of them would go and sit on the fortress battlements beneath a pile of furs. Clarke would tell them the stories she had been taught on the ARK from the old world about the stars. Roan and Ontari would share stories about the history of the Azgeda, of the lands beyond their borders and the people that Roan had seen. It had been several summers since they had last had the opportunity to sit like that, just the three of them. Without the responsibilities or efforts of training and battles and learning how to lead. Despite all of the threats and dangers surrounding them, this moment felt very much like that.

They didn’t stay at the clearing long. As dusk began to fall Roan deemed the horses rested enough. The painkiller had kicked in for Jacks and whilst he wasn’t anywhere close to his best, he was in a far better situation in which to ride than he had been before. Roan had them clear up the camp quickly, he was particular in making sure they had put the fire out properly before they left.

Costia struggled for the first time since she had been knocked unconscious during the skirmish to get her out of her village. She tried to fight against Menchay as he hoisted her up onto his horse, but he was far larger and far stronger than she was. Her efforts were completely futile, and she seemed to realise this soon enough, giving up the struggle and allowing herself to be docilely secured to Menchay’s horse. There was an uncomfortable knot in Clarke’s stomach as she watched Menchay manhandle the girl.

They’d begun to move again whilst there were still the traces of light in the sky. But they didn’t last for long. It made Clarke uneasy, moving through Trikru territory at night. She was tense, every little sound causing her head to snap in that direction. Her hand constantly hovering between the reigns of her horse and the knife strapped to her thigh. The sooner they crossed the border the better.

Because of the dark, the unfamiliar territory and Jacks’ injury they moved at a much slower pace than Roan was comfortable with. But at least they were moving.

It was unclear when exactly they crossed the border back into Azgeda lands, but the moon was high in the sky by the time Menchay could be positive that they were out of immediate danger. They were all grateful when Roan made the decision for them to rest in the first village they came across. The short rest in Trikru territory had been essential, but it wasn’t enough to fully replenish everyone.

The villagers kept their distance from the warriors, either out of fear or respect, it didn’t matter which. The village chief gave up his house for Roan and the others to rest. Being back in their own territory, in a village so devoted and grateful towards the Azgeda army, and Roan being the Prince, meant that they didn’t have to worry as much about setting up a proper watch. They still took it in turns to guard Costia however.

Clarke had never been so grateful for a straw filled pallet bed in her life. The exhaustion had completely taken over her, and after only a few days sleeping on the forest floor, the cramped space felt just as comfortable as her own bed. Ontari had curled herself into Clarke’s side almost as soon as they had both laid down and was snoring softly in her ear. She had been trying to hide how tired she was, but it had finally caught up with her.

Despite her exhaustion, sleep didn’t come as easily as Clarke would have expected. When she closed her eyes, she kept seeing Costia’s face, and there was uneasy feeling in her stomach that just wouldn’t go away. Clarke couldn’t understand why she was so bothered by the girl. But it was interrupting her desire to sleep. She was just some Trikru girl. She was probably only bothered because she couldn’t understand why exactly she was so important to Nia, and why Nia had kept the true nature of their mission a secret from both her and Ontari. Especially because Nia was meant to trust the pair of them.

She would find out before the day’s end tomorrow. They should reach the fortress before nightfall the next day. The thought filled Clarke with such relief. She couldn’t wait to be home, and for Nia to finally confirm that she and Ontari were officially part of the Azgeda army. She was only one sleep away from earning her Azgeda mark.

Clarke couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment she fell asleep, but when she woke in the morning she was grateful that she had been able to get out of her own head. She felt rested for the first time in days.

She was filled with so much anticipation for their return that she doubted she would be able to eat anything. However, that worry was quickly dissipated when the villagers prepared all of them an abundance of food. They were grateful for all the protection that Roan and the warriors offered them and had been honoured that their prince had chosen to shelter in their village for the night. Clarke was worried that they would ask questions about the Trikru girl they had brought with them, tied up and constantly guarded, but it had only taken Jacks mentioning that she was an enemy of Nia’s to cause them all to give her a wide berth until the party went to leave. Their loyalty to Nia was unshakeable.

When they set off again, that lightness of spirit that had been present when they’d first left the fortress seemed to return. It wasn’t as bright as before, but the change in mood was palpable in comparison to when they had been in Trikru territory. Clarke even noticed that Tyla had ceased their staring, or had at least diminished the ferocity in their gaze.

Roan remained as stoic as ever, but that had been inevitable. He was still in the role of general and was very much conscious that until they got Costia within the fortress walls there wasn’t any certainty of safety. They were so close to completing their mission, but that just meant they had more to lose. Roan didn’t understand how they had gotten so lucky; travelling through Trikru territory without coming across anyone else, and being able to take Costia from her own home without being chased after. The luck was never this good. But he wasn’t going to condemn their good fortune.

As they drew closer towards the fortress and the sun began to lose its position in the sky, a sense of playfulness seemed to fill Ontari. Clarke had been riding along, taking the time to observe the comfort of the Azgeda lands around her, when out of nowhere Ontari pulled up alongside her, a grin spreading across her face.

_ “Klark. Did you still want that rematch?”  _ Ontari asked in a teasing tone, referring back to a race some weeks ago between the two girls. Clarke, having lost, had claimed that Ontari had cheated.

Clarke turned to Ontari with a matching grin. She let out a laugh as she kicked her horse’s flank, speeding forward and away from Ontari. “ _ You bet!”  _ She yelled over her shoulder.

Costia watched the two girls from her position atop Menchay’s horse. She’d been watching everyone and everything for the entire journey. She didn’t understand why two Azgeda warriors were acting like children. She felt the vibration of Menchay’s chuckle against her back and saw the way that Roan shook his head, but smiled nonetheless, when they watched the girls go. The lack of discipline completely surprised her. Yes, the two girls were definitely younger than the rest of the Azgeda warriors who had taken her, but the Trikru had younger and more sensible seconds than these two. It was jarring to see the Azgeda be anything but ruthless and cruel.

Clarke, and her horse, were breathing heavily as she pulled to a stop at the edge of the fields that circled the mountainside. Ontari was barely half a second behind her. Both girls were grinning wildly.  _ “So, I won”  _ Clarke said between pants.

Ontari shook her head, leaning across to push Clarke lightly.  _ “You definitely cheated.” _

_ “Well you cheated last time, so we’re even.” _

Both girls were laughing as they slowly walked the edge of the field, Clarke was still trying to catch her breath. Her eyes were streaming from the wind and she was pretty sure her face had turned red.  But it had been fun, after all the tension and doubt over the last few days, it had been freeing to do something silly with Ontari. It made her feel like herself again.

It was on Ontari’s reminder, that Clarke stopped before they got to the mountain gates. She glanced back over her shoulder to see that none of the rest of the party had broken through the trees yet. Clarke let herself relax for a moment, before she would have to return to being a warrior. 

_ “Do you…”  _ Clarke began to speak, but wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to ask. Ontari turned to look at her with an eyebrow raised in question.  _ “Do you think Nia will be proud of us? As in, I mean not like proud proud, but do you think we did enough to earn our marks?” _

Ontari didn’t answer straight away, Clarke watched her as she watched over the workers in the field. Deep in thought.

_ “I think…”  _ Ontari turned back to look at Clarke,  _ “we did everything that Nia asked us to do. We fulfilled our roles on the mission, and the mission was a success.” _

_ “But was it enough to earn out marks?” _

_ “I don’t know. I think it’s down to Nia.” _

_ “You don’t sound very hopeful Tari. Getting your mark has been all you’ve ever spoken about, I thought you’d be thrilled to be returning from our first mission, and have it be a success?” _

_ “I know… it’s just I feel like it wasn’t that much of a test, you know? I know Nia, I mean I don’t know exactly how she thinks but after all these years I have a good sense. I always thought that my first mission would be something much more trying, that it would be something I would struggle with so that when I succeeded it would show my true loyalty. This mission wasn’t like that…” _

_ “You think there’s more to this mission, don’t you?”  _ Clarke could feel a sense of nervousness crawling up her spine as she mulled over what Ontari had said.

_ “It doesn’t feel like it’s over. I just don’t know what else Nia has planned.” _

Clarke didn’t know how to respond. She had thought about how easy the mission had been, that it seemed like Nia wasn’t testing them like they had expected. But Ontari seemed to have given it a lot more thought. Clarke could see it in the expression on her face, that she was trying to prepare herself for something that she deemed as being inevitable. And whilst Clarke knew that she and Ontari could both handle whatever else Nia wanted to throw their way, there was still that worry that she would fail. That it would all be for nothing. Because if they couldn’t please Nia than there was no future for them within Azgeda.

Before Clarke could continue the conversation further, Roan and the others appeared through the trees. Ontari collected herself upon seeing them approach, pushing down and aside all of the fears she was on the brink of voicing to Clarke and instead replaced them with the ever present stoic mask of the warrior. Roan said nothing in acknowledgement as the group reached the girls, absorbing Clarke and Ontari silently into their ranks.

They passed through the centre of the mountain without any hazard. Menchay was on high alert; well aware of Costia’s presence. But they were ignored by the villagers, guards, and other warriors that they passed. The sun was beginning to set and most of the people were more concerned with reaching their homes before the cold set in then to pay attention to the returning party.

It was different upon entering the gates of the fortress. Nia had been forewarned of Roan’s approach and there was a contingent of guards waiting to receive them. As they dismounted in the courtyard, several guards appeared to help escort Costia into the Great Hall. Roan led the way. Clarke fell into step beside Ontari, feeling mildly uncomfortable with their position right behind Roan (usually higher-ranking warriors would take their spot).

But she forgot her discomfort upon entering the Great Hall. She’d walked through this room countless times, but this was the first time she was entering it as a warrior. Ostensibly, it wasn’t any different than any of the other times that she had crossed the threshold of the door. But there was something about the atmosphere that had changed. She felt powerful, more so than she had ever done before, walking through the hall. It was exhilarating, feeling people acknowledge Roan and the rest of the party, seeing the very obvious marker of their success through Costia. Clarke felt like a real warrior.

The feeling didn’t last long. Seeing Nia’s cold stare from her position on her throne made reality rush straight back to Clarke. She wasn’t a warrior yet. Not until Nia deemed her ready.

Roan was the first to drop to one knee in front of the queen, the others all quickly followed suit. Costia was shoved down onto the floor by Menchay’s rough hand on her shoulder. She let out a cry in protest but upon seeing the stony glare on the queen’s face she quickly fell silent.

_ “I see you have returned.”  _ Nia said, her voice ringing out amongst the silence of the hall.

_ “Yes, my queen,”  _ Roan replied, keeping his head bowed.  _ “We have fulfilled your wishes.” _

_ “I can see.”  _ Nia’s voice was cold. Clarke had expected her to be welcoming, warm, happy that the mission had been a success, but she was showing no emotion.  _ “And did you encounter any problems General?” _

_ “No, my queen. We were undetected.”  _ As Roan replied, Nia cast her eyes over the group knelt before her. The Trikru girl was the only one to not have their head bowed in respect, instead she was intently glaring at the queen. When Nia’s eyes connected with hers however the girl almost seemed to flinch. Nia’s mouth turned up into the slightest of smiles at the reaction.

_ “You may rise, my son” _ Roan stood at the command, moving to take his place at the dais on Nia’s right.  _ “and my daughters.” _

The sudden addition took both Clarke and Ontari by surprise. Nia had never publicly announced either of them as her daughters, she had intimated it in private and Roan had frequently referred to them as such, but it wasn’t something that Nia had ever acknowledged. Because of this, Clarke was unsure as to whether Nia was actually referring to her or not (although there was no other candidate), but when she felt Ontari rise from the floor beside her, Clarke was quick to do the same. She kept her head bowed, examining her boots as she followed behind her sister and up onto the dais. Clarke had no idea how to label the swirl of emotions that were going on inside her, but a great warmth was growing. She took her cues from Ontari, raising her head high.

Nia waited until the three of them had settled into their positions either side of her before dismissing the rest of the party. The others all rose and dispersed to stand at the edges of the hall, leaving Nia’s view of Costia undisrupted with the exception of the guards firmly holding her in place. The queen didn’t speak for several moments, instead she just sat and looked at Costia.

_ “Are you Costia kom Trikru?”  _ Nia asked, a disinterested look on her face. It was obvious that Nia was playing a role, pretending to not care about the acquisition of Costia. But she was so good at playing these roles, at paying games with those who had displeased her in some way, that it was just disconcerting enough to make Costia feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

Still, she locked her jaw and stared straight back at the queen. She was not weak, and she was going to make sure the Azgeda knew that.  _ “I am.” _

_ “And are you not the Commander’s consort?” _

Clarke had thought that the room had been quiet, but after Nia spoke a complete silence fell over everyone. Clarke stared at Costia, she hadn’t expected Nia to ask that question. It hadn’t even been something on her radar. The Commander wasn’t meant to have any ties to any clans or any individuals – and whilst the Azgeda all knew that the Commander never truly relinquished their ties to their clan, Clarke had always assumed that the Commander did actually relinquish any personal connections. But Nia was claiming that Costia was loved by the Commander. And suddenly it all made sense, this was why Nia wanted Costia. She wasn’t just some random Trikru girl, or even a Trikru general. She belonged to the Commander.

At the queen’s question Costia had felt like she had been submerged in ice. The way that the queen was looking at her, like she was a prize that she couldn’t wait to tear apart, it made her feel sick. This was what Lexa had been warned against by Titus. Costia’s worst fear had come true, she was a threat to Lexa.

The girl didn’t answer.  She stared back at Nia in silence, but Roan (and Ontari) could see the sweat forming on her brow, and the way her chest rose and fell. She was scared. And she was attempting to hide it. But her silence was enough of an answer for Nia.

_ “Take her to the East Tower.”  _ Nia commanded to the guards holding Costia, before turning her head away in feigned disinterest. As Costia began to struggle against her captors Clarke was suddenly transported back to years before, when it had been her Nia had commanded be confined to the East Tower. But she had just been a child, and innocent. Clarke’s heart felt like it dropped into her stomach as she made the realisation; Costia wasn’t going to be given the same chance as she was. Nia didn’t need another daughter.

She shouldn’t feel this way. Cold and scared for the Trikru girl. She was Trikru. She was the enemy. Her people would have had no qualms over killing Clarke on the spot. She needed to shake this feeling because it was not how an Azgeda warrior thought.

Once Costia had been taken from the hall, Nia rose from her throne. She didn’t say anything as she exited via the back door, but at Roan’s gesture Clarke and Ontari followed behind them both. Clarke was still ruminating on what was going to happen to Costia, staring at her boots rather than pay attention to where within the fortress they were heading. They didn’t walk very far, turning into the banquet hall.

It felt wrong to Clarke, for them all to take their usual places at the table like they would do any other night. It wasn’t just that Costia was locked up in the tower, although that was a part of the strange feeling that had come over Clarke. It also felt strange because Clarke and Ontari had just returned from their first mission. Things had changed, they were no longer children being trained. They were members of the Azgeda army.

Only they weren’t members. Not quite yet.

_ “There were no problems with the mission? No unexpected surprises waiting for me further down the line?”  _ Nia asked Roan as the food was brought in.

_ “None at all mother. I’ve never had such good fortune within Trikru territory as we did.” _

_ “And Ontari and Klark? How did they fare?”  _ Both girls immediately straightened in their chairs at the question. Clarke was concentrating a lot on making sure she wasn’t giving away how nervous she was. But she was pretty sure it was futile. Although Nia still kept her attention on Roan.

Roan shifted slightly in his seat, briefly glancing towards the girls before turning his attention back to his mother.  _ “They acted with the composure of true warriors” _

_ “Yes. And everything they did was to benefit the mission?” _

_ “Yes, of course. They followed every instruction.”  _ Roan wasn’t entirely sure what his mother was driving at with her questioning, but he was going to make sure that every answer he gave made both girls appear in the best possible light.  _ “Klark was very competent in dealing with Jacks’ injury, and Ontari was invaluable to the rest of the party.” _

For the first time Nia turned her attention towards Clarke and Ontari.  _ “It seems you have very much impressed Roan.” _

Clarke could feel Ontari bouncing in her seat beside her. She had so many emotions about what Nia was saying, and so many questions. Ontari wanted nothing more than to let it all out, to tell Nia how excited and nervous and proud and eager and anxious she was.  But she couldn’t do any of that. But it was apparently too much to keep contained completely. As the question burst out of Ontari before she had time to really think about it:

_ “Does this mean we can get our marks now?” _

Nia raised an eyebrow at the question. Clarke squirmed, feeling uncomfortable  _ for  _ Ontari. To her credit, Ontari – reeling on the inside for her question – maintained her composure. She stared straight back at Nia, waiting for some sort of response. The silence felt like it stretched on forever, but was in reality only a few moments.

_ “You want to know if you’ve earned your marks?”  _ Nia asked both girls, there was something in her tone of voice that suggested that the question wasn’t as simple as it seemed. Ontari nodded her head yes anyway.

_ “Well, how can you have earned your marks if  _ I  _ haven’t seen you do anything? You have both made a good start towards earning your places as true warriors, but there is more that you have yet to do in order to prove yourselves.” _

Clarke couldn’t say that she was surprised by Nia’s response. But it had been what she had been hoping to avoid. She just wanted Nia to tell her outright that her place here was secured. She was tired of having to work for it. It was exhausting.

_ “What do we need to do to prove ourselves?”  _ Ontari asked.

Nia sat back in her chair, taking a moment as if to think about Ontari’s question (they all knew she would already have something planned). She took a sip from her cup without taking her eyes off of Ontari.  _ “Help me get what I need out of the Trikru girl and you’ll be officially part of the Azgeda army.” _

_ “And how are we supposed to do that?” _

_ “Surprise me.” _

Clarke didn’t know what to think. There was a sense of threat in Nia’s command. Nothing was ever as easy as it first appeared. That was something Clarke had learned the hard way. And she had no idea what exactly Nia was hoping to gain from Costia; it would be information on the Commander, but what information exactly was unclear. Even if the girl was close to the Commander, it would make no sense for her to be in possession of valuable information. If the Commander had told Costia anything important than she was both weak and stupid. But the girl must know something that Nia’s spies hadn’t been able to obtain else she wouldn’t have gone to the trouble, or the risk, of taking Costia in the first place.

For the rest of the meal, Nia ignored the topic of the Trikru girl locked in the East tower. She and Roan discussed other matters that concerned the Azgeda people. Occasionally there was the opportunity for Clarke or Ontari to interject and offer their opinion, but the usual dynamic of the dinner table had swiftly returned. Clarke and Ontari acted as passive observers, learning from listening.

Clarke could tell that Ontari was frustrated. She had hoped that after completing her first mission she would have the chance to be more active in ruling the clan. She had a seat at the table, so to speak, but it was no different from the seat she had always had. She was respected by the people because Nia chose her to be. But neither of the girls had any real power.

Once dinner was over, Ontari went straight to her room after being dismissed. Clarke had hoped they would have spent some time talking, but it seemed as if that wasn’t going to be happening that night. Being slower to rise and leave the table, Clarke found herself escorted by Roan.

_ “I know that Ontari is angry, but how do you feel Klark?” _ He asked as they began to walk.

_ “Ontari isn’t angry,”  _ It was an automatic response from Clarke, the need to justify her sister’s behaviour, _ “She’s just frustrated, that’s all.” _

_ “Is there really much difference? Never mind, do you feel the same?” _

Did she feel the same? Clarke wasn’t sure if what she felt was actually frustration. She definitely wasn’t angry.

_ “I think… I think I’m just tired,”  _ Clarke found herself responding with. Roan looked at her quizzically.

_ “Tired from the mission? Well that’s understandable, it was your first time out and you would have been under a lot of stress.”  _ Roan was smiling at her, trying to be reassuring. But Clarke shook her head as he spoke.

_ “No. That’s not it.”  _ Roan stopped to look at her.  _ “I mean, it is, partly. I  _ am  _ tired from the mission. But… I don’t know…”  _ Clarke trailed off, not sure how to respond sufficiently. She didn’t know how she felt, and so she couldn’t name it.

_ “Klark, what is on your mind?”  _ Roan asked, his voice had dropped. It was deep and soft and caring. Playing the role of a big brother, wanting to help Clarke fix whatever was troubling her.

_ “I just… I’m tired of not knowing I guess…” _

_ “Not knowing what Klark?” _

Clarke sighed, chewing on her lip. She was struggling with trying to articulate all of the emotions swirling inside of her. But the concerned look on Roan’s face, and the way his eyes seemed to hold so much warmth, made her feel more secure. Emotions weren’t something the Azgeda really dealt with. But if they did choose to, well Clarke had never felt more cared for then when Roan or Ontari were looking out for her.

_ “Not knowing if I’m secure.”  _ Clarke muttered, but Roan looked confused.  _ “I mean… I don’t know if I really belong here. Nia is always talking about how I need to prove myself, and I am trying so hard, but it never feels like enough. And I’m not saying this to complain about Nia, I love and trust her. I would do anything she asked me to do ten times over. It’s just…” _

_ “She doesn’t give you the confirmation that you want…”  _ Roan interjected. Clarke was startled that he seemed to get what she was talking about. She had been worried that she would make him angry, that she would make him think she doubted Nia’s authority when that wasn’t the case.

_ “Yeah… I just want to know if I’m truly Azgeda, if Nia will ever fully trust me…” _

_ “Klark,”  _ Roan had reached out and placed a comforting hand on her arm.  _ “You are Azgeda, and you do belong here. You have done ever since Nia decided that I was going to train you. Yes, she doesn’t show it, and yes, she is fickle. But mother has always been that way. I don’t believe she ever fully trusts anyone, it is too dangerous for her to do so. But that doesn’t mean you’re any less Azgeda than Ontari or myself. _

_ “She’s going to keep testing you for as long as she can. But every test she gives you, I know you will meet with the strength that is at your very core. There is no doubting your loyalty Klark, nor your skill. You are going to be one of the most formidable members of the Azgeda army we have ever seen, and not for your fighting ability like Ontari, but through your capacity to understand and your unwavering sense of what is right. Of what is best for your people. You just need to learn to trust in yourself the way you trust in Ontari, or me, or Nia. _

_ “I cannot wait for you to take your place by my side. When you and Ontari are ready, Nia will tell you so. And when she does, that will be the day Azgeda comes into its full strength. Just have faith in Nia and yourself Klark. Like I have faith in you.” _

Roan dropped his hand as he finished talking. Clarke could feel the heat rising up her face as he spoke, dropping her head so that she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him. Not sure how to respond to such an outpouring of care and faith coming from Roan, she mumbled out a quiet  _ “Thank you.” _

Roan was feeling just as awkward once he had finished speaking. He didn’t say anything in reply and instead carried on walking towards his room. After taking a few seconds to collect herself, Clarke followed behind him. But neither one of them spoke again other than to say goodnight as Clarke reached the stairwell that led to her room.

Everything that Roan had said was running through Clarke’s head still by the time she got into bed. It filled her with a warmth and comfort, that was amplified when she buried herself beneath her furs. A small smile stuck to her face as she fell asleep. Her bed having never been more comfortable than it was in that moment.

The peace and warmth and comfort of the evening was quickly destroyed with the morning sun. Ontari, although not as early as usual, woke Clarke before she was ready to relinquish her hold on sleep. She was impatient to start the day. But Clarke couldn’t say that she felt the same. And she definitely wasn’t eager to join in her sister’s apparent enthusiasm for the day.

_ “Ontari why can’t you let me sleep?”  _ Clarke mumbled, her face still very much buried beneath the furs in an attempt to block out the light Ontari had let in when she had opened the shutters. The bed dipped as Ontari climbed up and sat next to Clarke’s head.

_ “Because Roan wants us up and ready to help him interrogate Costia within the hour.”  _ Ontari replied, playfully punctuating each word with a poke in Clarke’s side. Clarke grunted and shifted away from Ontari’s prodding. The idea that she was going to have to interrogate someone made her feel a little sick. She didn’t know if she was ready to do something like that, but she wanted to prove herself and show Roan that his faith wasn’t misplaced.

So, she tried to deflect the topic, to take her mind off of the inevitable.

_ “If we have an hour, why are you waking me now?”  _ Clarke grumbled, turning her head that was still nested against the pillow so that she could look at Ontari. Ontari grinned, leaning over Clarke.

_ “Because you stink!” _

_ “I don’t stink!” _

_ “When was the last time you bathed, huh?”  _ Ontari teased her, an eyebrow raised. Clarke, despite her indignation, couldn’t remember the last time that she had actually had a bath. So, she just buried her face back into the pillow.  _ “See! You need a bath, so get up smelly!”  _ Ontari said, pulling the furs back off of Clarke in an attempt to encourage some movement.

Clarke groaned, loudly. Refusing to move, although the cold was brisk and unwelcome.  _ “I hate you.”  _ She muttered as she eventually began to sit up. Ontari just laughed.

_ “Only because I’m right.”  _ She teased, “ _ I’ll see you in an hour, and you better not smell!” _

_ “Urgh!”  _ Clarke grunted, falling back against the bed.

Eventually she got up, feeling groggy and all of her limbs aching from the lack of rest. But the warmth of the bath water helped to ease the tension in her muscles. And as much as Clarke hated it when Ontari was right, she did feel a lot better after getting clean. Putting on fresh clothes and re-braiding her hair after so many days sleeping rough made her feel more like herself.

Clarke was tying up her boots when Ontari re-entered her room, tossing Clarke a chunk of bread for her breakfast. Ontari was rolling back and forth on the balls of her feet, unable to contain her excitement. Clarke tried to ignore the tense feeling in her stomach. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t be just as excited as Ontari.

_ “Are you ready?”  _ Ontari asked, a grin plastered across her face. It would disappear soon, once they were in sight of other people. But for now, Ontari wasn’t hiding how eager she was for the day ahead.

_ “I think I need a whole day’s worth of sleep before I’ll be ready for anything,”  _ Clarke muttered, following behind Ontari. Ontari scoffed.

_ “Well that’s never going to happen.” _

_ “A girl can dream.” _

Ontari just snorted in response, shaking her head slightly.

They didn’t speak after that, but it was a comfortable silence. Although Clarke’s stomach was rolling with nerves. She could only imagine the type of methods Nia would expect of them to get Costia to talk and Clarke didn’t know if she had it in her to actually hurt her. She had been trained to kill, but not to torture. They were very much being thrown into the deep end.

Roan was waiting for the pair of them at the foot of the East Tower stairs. He was lacking the white war-paint, but the rest of his regalia spoke to his status as High General. The aim was to intimidate Costia through Roan’s reputation as a fierce warrior, hopefully inducing her fear to cause her to talk. Clarke hoped that the girl would be weak enough to give in at just the threat of violence, but she knew that wasn’t likely.

Roan glanced over both of the girls. Ontari had made sure to remind Clarke to wear her grey coat, the one she wore to public events that was too hot and too heavy to do anything strenuous in, especially when worn anywhere but the icy outdoors. But it looked impressive and that was what was important. The only weapons any of them had were their knives. An interrogation was no place for something as cumbersome as a sword. Nia believed in nuance in these situations.

_ “I will take the lead. I want the pair of you to observe at first and if you have any ideas then share them.”  _ Roan said, looking at both of the girls. Ontari nodded her head, she didn’t like the fact that they were once again being side-lined, but at least this time Roan was encouraging them to think for themselves.

There were guards posted outside the room Costia was being held in. The fortress had a proper dungeon, but Nia only used those cells for prisoners who offered no benefit to the Azgeda and were either waiting for their chance in the fighting pits, execution, or banishment (whichever Nia deemed fit), but she often elected to ignore prisoners once they descended to the cells below. The East Tower was where prisoners whose fate was either undetermined, or could be beneficial to Nia, were kept. Clarke had seen the dungeons and was very grateful that Nia had had her sent to the tower when she had first arrived.

The guards stepped aside as the trio approached, allowing Roan to enter Costia’s room first. She was sat on a stool in the corner of the room, her hands still bound behind her back, staring at the door in anticipation. Roan noticed the flicker of surprise and panic on her face when the door swung open, followed swiftly by her active attempt to appear unperturbed. She waited until all three of them had entered the room and the door had shut behind Clarke before shifting her gaze from the doorway to fix on Roan directly. Roan stared straight back at her, neither moving for several moments.

Finally, Roan turned his gaze from Costia to Ontari. His stare was cold and harsh, it made Clarke nervous. There was a blankness behind his eyes. He wasn’t the Roan she knew, now he was the Prince, the High General of the Azgeda army. He was compartmentalising, allowing himself to suppress any emotion that could cause weakness.

_ “Bring me the stool. I wish to sit.”  _ He asked Ontari in a demanding tone. There was a split second where confusion was written across her face. Unsure of what it was that Roan wanted her to do. But it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. She chanced a look back at Clarke as she began to walk across the room, the slightest tilt of her chin in a nod of reassurance. Reminding Clarke that they should do whatever Roan told them to do.

Costia stiffened as Ontari approached. But her glare still remained on Roan. She was tense, on edge. She didn’t have the control to keep her heart rate low and calm, but she didn’t want the Azgeda to see her fear.

Ontari stopped when she reached Costia. She was hoping that the girl would just give her the stool, that she would make things easy. Show that she was willing to comply. But she didn’t. Costia kicked her leg out towards Ontari as she leant forward, but the other girl easily dodged out of the way. Ontari ignored her as Costia shuffled round on the stool, trying to block Ontari from getting any closer. But she was weak and tired and uncoordinated with her hands tied. Ontari had no trouble avoiding her, reaching out and pulling on the stool leg. It came out from underneath Costia, sending her to the floor with a heavy thud. The grunt of pain that she emitted, and the difficulty she had in climbing to her feet, confirmed to Clarke what she had first thought: this girl was no warrior.

Ontari returned to Roan, placing the stool down in front of him. Costia was standing now but hadn’t made any move to approach the others. She was still glaring. Roan slowly and with great deliberation sat down on the stool, casually unsheathing his knife, and letting the point of the blade run across his palm.

_ “Klark.”  _ Was all that Roan said, not taking his eyes off of the girl, but it was enough for Clarke to understand what he wanted.  Ontari was stood behind him, her hand resting on the hilt of her own knife. Clarke didn’t feel comfortable. It wasn’t that she wanted to disobey Roan, she just wished that they didn’t have to be so cold. It had not been like this when she had arrived. But then she hadn’t been Trikru. She had just been a very lost little girl.

Clarke knew her grip on Costia’s arm wasn’t as tight as it should have been. She knew Costia knew it as well. The girl struggled and tugged away from her, but she didn’t pull as hard as she could have when she realised that Clarke wasn’t using all her strength. Costia was playing up to her role in this masquerade just as much as Roan and Ontari were. The grunt she let out when Clarke pushed her to her knees in front of Roan was genuine however.

_ “Now, you seem like someone with some common sense. So why don’t we just make this easy for all of us.”  _ Roan began to speak, still toying with the knife.  _ “If you tell me everything you know about the Commander, I’ll let you go. Simple as that.” _

Costia stiffened at the mention of the Commander, her glare hardening. Clarke knew in that moment that there was no way this girl was going to give them anything that could betray her to the Commander. If what Nia had said about her was true than there was more than just loyalty connecting the pair of them. That type of bond wasn’t something that could be broken easily.

_ “Well? What do you say? Does that sound like something you want?”  _ Roan asked when Costia didn’t respond. He and Ontari had both seen how she had reacted, both in the Great Hall and now, when the Commander was mentioned. They had both reached the same conclusion as Clarke.

_ “Go to Hell.”  _ Costia spat back at Roan. Her face contorted with anger. It was the most emotion she had shown. And the most she had spoken.

_ “I thought as much. Don’t worry though, whilst your reluctance has been noted, I don’t believe that it will remain for long.”  _ Roan replied, his voice completely calm and unaffected by Costia’s emotion. It was eerie, the way he spoke with such disaffectedness. Like he was a completely different person.

Clarke was still stood beside Costia, her hand on the girls’ shoulder. Her grip had tightened automatically when she had felt her tense in her anger. There was a heavy silence after Roan had spoken. Clarke could hear Costia breathing heavily, but she wasn’t sure if that was because of anger or fear. They were all waiting for what Roan was going to do next.

_ “Ontari.”  _ Roan said, his voice soft (which somehow made it more uncomfortable given how tense everyone in the room was).

_ “Yes sir,” _ Ontari replied, glancing at Clarke briefly before looking down at Roan. Her voice came out strong, she had been preparing for this moment since they had gotten here.

_ “Why don’t you show our guest here why it’s so rude of them to turn down an offer from the Prince.” _

Clarke looked at Ontari, confused. Roan was being deliberately cryptic. Not allowing for Costia to be able to anticipate what was going to happen next would put her more on edge, make her more susceptible to pain. Break down her walls quicker. But it also had the disadvantage of keeping everyone, but Roan, in the dark.

Ontari was apprehensive, Clarke could see it in the way she was holding herself. It was subtle, but if you knew her you could tell when she was unsure. Her usual cockiness was lacking. But nonetheless, she still stepped forward with her head held high. She had the impassive mask on, the one that Nia had taught her how to wear. Clarke glanced at Roan, noticing that she was looking at him, he gave the slightest flick of his head. Clarke stepped aside and away from Costia, taking Ontari’s previous position.

Costia only took her eyes off of Roan when Ontari stood directly in front of her, blocking her view. She gritted her teeth, trying to prepare herself for whatever was about to happen. Ontari was hiding her panic well. Her mind was a whirl wind; trying to work out what exactly Roan wanted her to do. Mixed in with the awareness that she had to act, and that making her own decision would be what Nia was expecting from her. To show that she could think for herself and get the results needed. She had proven that she could follow orders, now she needed to show that she was smart enough to work without them. But the Trikru girl was just that: a girl. The same age as her. And it was all very overwhelming.

Ontari struck her.

Hard.

Ontari had begun to panic, the closer she got to the girl, and she knew the longer she thought about it the more she would doubt herself and appear weak. And she could not appear to be weak in front of the enemy. So, she had done the first thing that had come into her mind. Roan wanted her to intimidate her, to punish her for not talking. And Ontari had known that the girl wasn’t going to talk until she couldn’t stand the pain any longer. Which meant she had to hurt her.

Costia’s head whipped to the side, she let out a grunt of pain. Ontari clenched her hand into a fist to stop it shaking at the look of hatred that the other girl shot her way. There was a red mark on Costia’s face, but she hadn’t drawn blood. So, she hit her again, harder this time. And then a third time.

This time she had drawn blood, Costia spitting it out of her mouth. But it was nowhere near enough pain to make her talk. But Ontari didn’t know how far she was meant to be going. As Costia tried to wipe the bloody spittle off her mouth with her shoulder, Ontari glanced back at Roan. He saw the question in her eyes, asking if this is what he had wanted, the slow nod of his head in return confirmed it.

Ontari hit her again, striking the other side of her face this time. Costia grunted once more. Something twisted inside Ontari. Despite all her talk, the only person she had ever hurt outside of training, was a boy who had gotten too handsy. She’d broken his nose and fingers. She and Clarke had pretended to not know what Roan had done with him, not speaking about the incident again after it had happened. But he had deserved it. And Ontari knew Costia did, she was an enemy, the consort of the Commander. But it still felt different.

But Nia’s face came to mind as Ontari hit her once more. And the cold disaffected tone Roan was sporting. She knew that Roan wasn’t senselessly cruel, that he was actually a caring and affectionate person. He just pushed it all aside when he had to. And so that was what Ontari had to do now. Push it all down. Not see Costia as a girl. But as the enemy, who would do the same thing to her if she got the chance.

Clarke was tense. She flinched at the sound of Ontari’s fist connecting with Costia’s face each time she hit her. She knew that this was inevitable, but she still felt sick watching as Costia spat out another mouthful of blood onto the floor. Clarke didn’t know what was going through Ontari’s mind, but she knew her sister wasn’t enjoying this. It was just a façade, a form of self-preservation. The same as Roan.

That was what Clarke kept telling herself. That they were doing this because they had to. Because Nia needed the information, and they would do anything for Nia. She just needed to learn to push all of these thoughts aside, to squash all of her emotions, the way that Roan and Ontari were. Clarke even thought she was making a start, trying to clear her mind. To hide her anger and the sick feeling in her stomach in the same place she had hid her fear when she had first come to the ground.

But then there was a sickening crack as Ontari’s knee connected with Costia’s face. The Trikru girl gasped in pain, trying to pull in a raspy breath through her now broken nose, as blood gushed down her face. Ontari had let the back of her head go, it lulled forward. Clarke watched as Ontari went to hit the girl again. She could feel the anger build up inside her.

_ “Is this really necessary?”  _ Clarke suddenly burst out, unable to contain her outrage any longer. A sudden stillness fell over the room as Ontari and Roan both snapped their heads in her direction. Costia glanced up, blinking rapidly and breathing heavily, but grateful for the sudden reprieve.

_ “Klark. A word.”  _ Roan demanded, turning his back on the bloodied Costia and heading into the corridor. Clarke followed. Her heart pounding in her chest. What had she done? She had completely screwed everything up. And everything Roan had said the day before would be null by the time he was through with her.

Clarke took a deep breath as Roan rounded on her the moment they were both in the corridor with the door shut. He had a stern look on his face, but it wasn’t outright furious. It was closer to the look he got when he was teaching them.

_ “Ok, I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt and hope that whatever that… little show of, I don’t know what, empathy maybe? Pity? Whatever. I am going to give you the benefit and say that whatever just happened is part of a larger plan for manipulation, and not just you being a complete idiot.”  _ He reprimanded, Clarke could see how much effort he was putting in to keep his emotions contained.

She swallowed over a thick lump in her throat, not really sure what to say in response. The knot in her stomach had only seemed to grow. Clarke didn’t really know what would be the best option for her now. To tell Roan how uncomfortable she was feeling about the whole thing, or to play along with his suggestion that it was part of a plan. But he was glaring at her, waiting for a response that she wasn’t sure she could give.

_ “ummm… I…”  _ Clarke stammered out. Roan raised an eyebrow, arms folded.  _ “It was a plan…”  _ Clarke said, resigning herself to the fact that she wasn’t going to be able to do anything to make it stop. And she shouldn’t be feeling this. The girl was Trikru. She was the enemy. She had probably done, or at the very least supported, countless things that had directly hurt the Azgeda people. She should want to hurt her, to find out whatever it was that Nia wanted them to. So how could she tell Roan that the idea made her feel sick.

_ “And are you going to tell me what this interrogation plan is?”  _ Roan asked, his tone a little less hostile. He wasn’t sure if Clarke was telling the truth, but he could see the girl’s discomfort and that wasn’t what he wanted.

Clarke bit her lip, desperately trying to think up some sort of plan that would excuse her behaviour and be a valid technique.  _ “I umm… I was thinking that… you know, if I pretended that I wasn’t ok with hurting her… I could, umm… maybe I could act as like a comforting shoulder. Get her to think that I was on her side. Maybe get her to open up to me, to tell me what she knows. If she thinks she has a friend here, she may think she has a higher chance of getting out of here, she may slip up. I don’t know if it will work but…”  _ She trailed off, too scared to actually look at Roan. She had no idea where the idea had come from, but once she had started speaking the thoughts had kind of come together. She just didn’t know if it would be something Roan would buy.

_ “I get what you’re saying. It’s possible it might work. But you would have to be committed to the idea of actually befriending her Klark, and we would have to make sure Ontari understood also. You should have come to me with this first, rather than causing a scene. But it is possible we can use what happened to our advantage.”  _ Roan replied.

Clarke looked up at him with wide eyes. She hadn’t expected him to agree. But he had, and now she was going to have to make sure she used this opportunity to her advantage. Not necessarily to help Costia, she had no desire for the girl to escape, but she could use it so as to not hurt her.

_ “Really? I haven’t ruined everything?”  _ Clarke asked.

_ “No, you haven’t. Provided you can actually get the girl to talk to you.” _

_ “What if I can’t?”  _  Clarke was suddenly apprehensive. Because it was all well and good that Roan had bought her story that she had a plan, but if she didn’t actually follow through with it and get some answers out of Costia than she could be in trouble.

_ “Then you tried, and it didn’t work.”  _ Roan responded, placing a comforting hand on Clarke’s shoulder.

_ “Do you think Nia will think that?”  _ She couldn’t help but ask.

_ “She’ll see that you were thinking outside of the box. That you took a risk, and even if it doesn’t pay off she’ll know that you were learning from it.”  _ Roan was reassuring and comforting, trying to do his best to alleviate Clarke’s worry. It was eerie, however, how quickly he could switch from his public façade as prince, to the cold and aloof stoicism of the High General, to the kind and affectionate Roan that he was with his sisters. Clarke was grateful that the latter was how he chose to interact with her.

_ “Ok,”  _ She nodded her head in response. She did feel a little better about her decisions and her future. “ _ So, what are going to do now?” _

_ “I’ll go back into the interrogation with Ontari. You won’t.”  _ Clarke furrowed her brow in confusion, seeing it Roan explained further.  _ “If we want you to befriend the girl than she needs to think you’re on her side. We’ll use your little outburst in there as a starting point. I’ll act as if I’ve removed you from the situation because you can’t keep your cool, and then later, after Ontari and I have left, you can come back here and make a start at being nice to her. We’ll keep you out of the interrogations and seemingly out of the loop. That way she won’t see you as being as much of a threat.” _

This had been exactly what Clarke had wanted. To not have to hurt Costia. And she knew she shouldn’t feel that way, but she did and now she was getting to avoid the dirty work whilst still being involved. She wasn’t betraying Nia nor herself.

_ “Now, go back to your room and wait for Ontari and I to finish here.” _ Roan said, squeezing Clarke’s arm in encouragement as he turned back towards the room where Costia was being held. Clarke waited until he had shut the door behind him again before leaving the tower.

She worried at her lip the entire walk back to her room. She had gotten what she had wanted. But she also felt guilty. Partly because Costia was still being interrogated, but also because she had left Ontari behind. She had seen how tense her sister was. Ontari wasn’t enjoying the interrogation any more than she was, but she had had the courage and devotion to do as she was asked without questioning.  Clarke had failed Nia, and she hadn’t wanted to do that. But it had all been a bit much. And now she was just confused.

Clarke paced up and down the length of her room. Waiting for Ontari and Roan to return. She had no idea how long they were going to be. She was trying to work through her thoughts and conflicted emotions. She walked towards the wooden doorframe, pulling her knife back out from where it had lodged itself. She paced a few more laps of her room before once again throwing the knife at the doorjamb, the satisfying sound of the blade embedding itself in the wood helping to ease some of the tension she held in her shoulders. But it wasn’t really enough. It didn’t erase the conflicted feeling of betrayal that had settled deep in her stomach.

She hadn’t really betrayed Nia or Roan. She was still going to be reporting back to them everything that she managed to learn from Costia.  She was just avoiding having to physically hurt her. She wanted to get information on the Commander as much as everyone else, she wanted to take her down. To remove the Trikru’s longstanding grip on power that they held over all of the clans. Roan had seemed to think that tricking the girl was a good plan, but Clarke didn’t really want to trick Costia. She didn’t want to be friends with her either. She didn’t know what she wanted, but she knew she wasn’t as strong as Ontari.

It was as if thinking about her, had brought her to Clarke’s door. Ontari knocked briefly before opening the door to see Clarke standing by the window, her knife absently held in her hand. Clarke turned to see who had entered, trying to offer a small smile to her sister.

_ “Hey,”  _ Clarke said softly as Ontari shut the door behind her. She had a blank look on her face and Clarke couldn’t help but notice the blood on her shirt and the back of her hand. She knew it wasn’t Ontari’s.

Ontari crossed the room and took a seat at the table, pouring herself a cup of water as she did so. Clarke moved away from the window and took her own chair. She watched Ontari carefully, observing the way she was keeping her eyes focused on the rim of the cup, avoiding Clarke, before draining all of her drink in one go. Clarke pretended not to notice how unsteady the jug was in her hand. The only sound was the crack of the wood burning in the fireplace. It was unsettling.

_ “Did she talk?”  _ Clarke asked finally once Ontari seemed to have relaxed a bit.

_ “No, not yet.”  _ Ontari replied, her voice seemed hollow, devoid even of the coldness that they had been trained to show others. Ontari seemed to fixate on her hands around the base of the cup, as if noticing the blood for the first time she began to rub at her knuckles anxiously.

Clarke didn’t know what to think, but it was obvious Ontari hadn’t really processed what had happened. Clarke rose silently, grabbing her washcloth and dampening it in the basin on a stand near her trunk of clothes. She brought it back and gently took one of Ontari’s hands, softly rubbing at the blood to remove it. The action seemed to calm Ontari down, although her hand was shaking still. Clarke didn’t know what to say in this moment. She couldn’t just tell Ontari that it was going to be ok, because it wasn’t. But it was also something that they would both have to get used to if they were going to rise anywhere above just a warrior.

_ “Sorry, this is stupid. I don’t know why I’m shaking, it must be because I haven’t eaten anything. I mean that has to be it.”  _ Ontari began to babble, pulling her hands back from Clarke now that they were clean. Clarke reached back across the table and rested her hand back on top of Ontari’s anyway.

_ “It’s alright Tari, you don’t have to be strong in front of me.”  _ She said, trying to be soothing. Ontari glanced up and actually looked at her sister for the first time.  _ “I get that it’s hard. I mean I didn’t even do anything and I found it difficult.” _

_ “Yeah, but you were being clever about it. Thinking of a way to manipulate the gi- ... to manipulate the prisoner, just like Nia would have. I just did as I was told, nothing to prove to Nia that I’m ready to be in charge...” _

_ “Manipulating her wouldn’t work if she wasn’t scared Tari, what you’re doing, its important.”  _ Clarke was trying to reassure her, but they both knew that just because it was essential, it didn’t mean Ontari was going to feel good about hurting Costia.

_ “I know Klark... it’s just I feel like I’m betraying Nia because I don’t  _ want  _ to interrogate her. I mean I do, I want to find out everything we can to take down the Commander, but I-“ _

_ “You just don’t want to hurt someone else. Not when it’s not a fair fight.”  _ Clarke finished for her. Ontari locked eyes with her, realising that they both felt the same way.

_ “Roan said it’ll get easier. That it’s always hardest the first-time round, interrogation, battle, killing someone... You just have to learn how to block things out, deal with them one at a time.”  _ Ontari had gone very quiet as she spoke. Clarke was reminded of how she had dealt with everything when she had first come to the ground, it had been difficult, but she had managed. And Ontari was far more prepared for this than she had been.

_ “It does get easier.”  _ Clarke said, smiling as Ontari looked at her.   _ “You just have to find somewhere your mind can go to when you need to escape. Once you have that place you can cope with anything.” _

_ “Do you have a place? Somewhere you go to?”  _ Ontari had never sounded so unsure about asking something in the entire time that Clarke had known her.

_ “Yeah... I mean it’s changed over the years, but I do have somewhere, and it definitely helps.” _

_ “Where is it? The place?” _

Clarke paused before answering, she could feel heat rising up the back of her neck. As close as she and Ontari were, there was a certain level of feeling that they never shared with one another, that was too intimate for the rules of Azgeda custom. But Clarke also knew that right now it was important that she was honest, especially with how vulnerable Ontari seemed to be in this moment.  _ “It’s here. In this room. With you and Roan, when you were telling me stories about the old world whilst we fletched our own arrows.” _

“ _ With the feathers from the hawk we shot down on our hunting trip?”  _ Ontari asked, a small smile creeping onto her face. Clarke smiled back and nodded her head.

_ “yeah.” _

They sat in silence for several moments after that. Ontari thinking of her own memories, hoping to find somewhere she could escape to when it was next needed. Clarke was thinking about ways she could make Ontari feel better. Of how they could show Nia the strength that she was expecting from them both without losing their sense of selves. 

Their contemplation was interrupted with the sound of knocking. Clarke glanced up at the door, calling out for whoever it was to enter. Roan stuck his head round the door, and seeing that Ontari was also with Clarke he came further into the room.

_ “You did a good job today Ontari,”  _ he said, receiving a slight smile in response, before turning his attention to Clarke.  _ “It’s time to set your plan in motion Klark.” _

Clarke swallowed heavily. She had been expecting this, but she still didn’t know if she was completely ready for what would be expected of her.  But she also didn’t have much of a choice, and she did need to prove that even without torturing the prisoner she could still get the answers Nia needed.  _ “What did you have in mind?” _

“ _ Take the prisoner some food, maybe something to clean up her wounds. Act like you’re doing this from your own volition, try and plant the seed of friendship.” _

_ “Ok.”  _ It didn’t seem so hard, all Roan wanted her to do was show Costia some care. She could do that. The difficult part would be making sure to keep herself detached, all while pretending she wasn’t. But at least she wasn’t torturing anyone.

Clarke gave Ontari’s hand one last brief squeeze before rising from her chair and heading towards the door.

_ “Food and medical supplies have been left with some of the tower guards.”  _ Roan told her. Clarke nodded in response, grateful that Roan had already organised everything. She felt bad leaving Ontari behind when she was so clearly still upset, but Clarke knew that she didn’t have a choice.

Clarke was nervous as she climbed the stairs of the tower. Her palms were clammy, and her heart was pounding. She was trying to rationalise her nerves, telling herself it was because she didn’t want to let Roan and Nia down. That they were all depending on her. And they were definitely not because she didn’t think she could keep it together if she saw that Ontari had hurt Costia badly. But she would keep it together, because she was strong, and it was expected of her.

The Azgeda guards were silent, as usual, when she approached. One of them indicated to the tray of food and meagre medical supplies. Clarke took a deep breath and nodded in response. Costia would be able to hear them on the other side of the door, Clarke knew from her own stay in the tower. So, she had to make it seem convincing that she was going behind the others’ backs.

_ “I’m here to bring the prisoner some food.”  _ Clarke lied, the guards knowing what was going on remained impassive as she spoke.  _ “I’ve also been sent to relieve you, you can go eat, I’ll keep an eye on her until the next shift arrives.” _

The guards left their post, but only walked a few feet down the corridor. They weren’t really going to leave the tower, just in case Costia didn’t buy into Clarke’s offer of friendship and somehow managed to overwhelm her in an attempt to escape.

Clarke, with the tray in her hands, took a deep breath and opened the door to Costia’s cell. The girl looked up as she entered, she looked startled and perhaps a little frightened at seeing Clarke return after she had so abruptly left this morning. Clarke waited until the door was closed behind her before speaking.

_ “Hey…”  _ She kept her voice low, both so as not to startle Costia further and also to insinuate she was doing something she wasn’t meant to be.  _ “The guards have gone, so it’s just me. I’m sorry about earlier…”  _ Clarke looked at her face properly, her nose was definitely broken and her lip split. There was a lot of dried blood on her face, so it was hard to tell how seriously injured she actually was, but she definitely did not look good.  _ “I’ve er… I’ve brought you something to eat.”  _ Costia’s gaze flickered to the tray in Clarke’s hands. Clarke was pretty sure that the idea of food and water was something that Costia desperately wanted, but the girl was smart and thus was sceptical of anything offered to her.

Taking notice of her nerves, and her position in the furthest corner of the room, Clarke made sure to move slowly. She placed the tray down on the stool, still in the same position near the foot of the bed where Roan had left it. Clarke waited for Costia to move, but she didn’t. Still eyeing her suspiciously. “ _ I’ve brought some stuff to clean your face as well, if you’ll let me?”  _ Clarke added, hoping to encourage the girl to come closer.  _ “I don’t want anything to get infected.” _

Costia didn’t move, but her expression shifted slightly. She was considering Clarke’s proposal. Clarke didn’t really know what else to do to encourage her. She sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, it was smaller and far more uncomfortable than the one she had had when she had been in the tower, and it was no comparison to the comfort of her current bed. Still Costia remained, watching her.

_ “I’m Klark by the way. Nia said your name was Costia?”  _ Clarke spoke, trying to get any sort of response out of the girl. Costia gave her nothing. She had expected her wariness, but she also hadn’t anticipated it being this hard.  _ “I really am sorry about what happened. It’s why I left earlier… well it’s why Roan banned me from being here. Because I don’t want you to get hurt. It’s why I’m here now, to try and ease some of your pain.” _

_ “Then you’re weak.”  _ Costia said suddenly, her tone harsh and her glare hard and defiant. But it seemed forced, like Costia was trying to appear more intimidating than she actually was.

Clarke shrugged. If Costia thought she was weak than she would play up to that role, she would be more likely to trust her if she thought she could manipulate her easier.

Costia stared at her for a moment longer, sizing Clarke up. She didn’t know if the girl was genuine in her offer to help or not. But she had outburst her disapproval earlier in the day, and the Prince had been some minutes talking to her before he came back alone. So maybe she was right in that she didn’t agree with them torturing her. And she had brought food, and offered to help clean her wounds. She was smaller than Costia, definitely still a few years younger than her. Costia hadn’t seen her fight (and Clarke’s long coat prevented her from seeing how strong she was), but if her size was anything to go by and the apparent weakness of her commitment to violence, then she could probably take Clarke down in a fight if it came to it. And she  _ was  _ very hungry.

Eventually Costia shifted from her position on the floor. Grunting as she rose to her feet and crossed the room towards Clarke. Clarke tried to stay as still as possible, like a wounded animal she didn’t want to startle the girl. She was hoping Costia was coming to take her offer of food and medicine, but she was also prepared in case she tried to attack. But Clarke had no need to worry, Costia sank to the floor in front of the stool and shakily tried to pour herself some water. Seeing her struggle, not dissimilar from how Ontari had struggled earlier, Clarke leaned forward and took the jug out of Costia’s hand. Clarke could feel her eyes on her as she poured out a cup and handed it to the other girl.

_ “Thanks.”  _ Costia muttered under her breath. Clarke just offered a slight smile.

They sat in silence for several minutes as Costia picked at the food. It was just a meagre bowl of cold stew and water, but seeing as she hadn’t eaten since the day before she had been taken, any food was welcome. When Costia looked like she had finished Clarke shifted her position from the bed, to kneel on the floor beside her.

_ “Do you mind if I take a look at your face now?”  _ Clarke asked her gently when Costia’s eyes showed some alarm at the other girl suddenly being so close.  _ “I’m a healer. Well training to be one, but I’ve nearly finished my training so no need to worry.”  _ Clarke spoke, trying to ease the tension in Costia’s shoulders, even smiling a little. The other girl looked at her quizzically for a moment before nodding her head slightly.

As Clarke turned to dip a cloth in some water Costia spoke.  _ “I’m a healer too.”  _ Her voice was quiet, as if she was scared of admitting anything. Clarke smiled, but felt a pang in her chest. She couldn’t let herself get attached to Costia, she was Trikru and it wasn’t likely that Nia would be merciful with her. But Clarke still had that small slimmer of hope.

_ “Oh, that’s cool.”  _ Clarke replied, showing Costia a smile, as she gently began to wipe the blood from her face. Costia didn’t reply but she did seem to relax a little bit and so Clarke took that as a good sign.

It happened like that for the next six days. Roan and Ontari -  sometimes both, sometimes just one of them – would torture Costia trying to get her to talk, and then Clarke would pretend to sneak in at night, to offer food and to clean her wounds. Eventually Costia began to expect Clarke’s arrival, and despite trying to fight the feeling (not wanting to trust any Azgeda) she began to rely on Clarke as a comforting presence. She didn’t talk, not about the Commander anyway. Instead she would ask Clarke about herself and her upbringing. Clarke avoided telling her anything about living in the sky, instead she borrowed from Ontari’s history, pretending that she too had been taken from her village as a child to be trained by Nia. In return Costia would speak about her own village, about how she had been the second to their healer, the two bonding over shared experiences about training. But Costia’s stories would have gaps, she would start to talk about something that made her happy and then trail off. Clarke knew it was because the story involved the Commander as a girl, and Costia was adamant in never speaking about her. Clarke admired her commitment to the person she loved, despite it being counterproductive to her mission: Nia did not.

The first few days, Ontari would go straight to Clarke after Roan had dismissed her. The same hollowness behind her eyes. But eventually she began to get the hang of compartmentalising. It still affected her, torturing someone. The memory of Roan showing her how to remove someone’s finger nails using the same tone and analogies as when he had taught her how to fillet a fish had kept her up all night, unable to eat anything or close her eyes without hearing Costia’s screams or smell her blood. Clarke had seen the look on Ontari’s face at the dinner table that night (and had seen how much pain Costia had been in that evening) and had known her sister was struggling. She had crawled into Ontari’s bed that night, silently offering her presence for comfort. Ontari still hadn’t slept, but it had helped ease her mind somewhat.

Nia would question all three of them at the dinner table about the progress they were making with the prisoner. Clarke was faithful in her retelling of everything that Costia had told her, but stories of Costia’s childhood were no good to Nia when they didn’t involve the Commander. Clarke hated that she felt guilty telling Nia everything that Costia told her in confidence, thinking that Clarke sympathised with her plight. But Clarke would never disobey her queen. The conflict was getting to Clarke a little. She didn’t know how much longer she could take it.

But on the seventh night of Costia’s captivity, Nia appeared to have also had enough. As usual the conversation around the dinner table was on the affairs of the Azgeda people, and it inevitably returned to Costia. Nia questioned Roan yet again, and asked after how Ontari faired in regard to her torturing technique. As Roan began to reiterate the same thing he had told Nia the previous night, having little new information to offer, Nia decided that she was bored of the Trikru girl. That she was taking up too much of their time when they could be doing other important things. And if she wasn’t going to give them any information than she was no longer useful to them, well not alive anyway.

_ “Klark, what have you learnt?”  _ Nia asked, suddenly turning towards her. It was the same question she had been asked every evening, but Clarke could sense the change in Nia’s tone to previous nights. As much as she didn’t want Costia to be hurt (she had started to like the girl through all  their conversations) the idea of lying to Nia wasn’t even an option she thought of entertaining. Obeying her queen was above all the most important thing. But she had been trying her best to buy Costia some time.

_ “The girl still claims she doesn’t know anything my queen,”  _ Clarke replied. She knew she had to pick her words carefully to avoid lying to Nia, and condemning Costia.

_ “And do you believe that?”  _ Nia asked, her face impassive but an eyebrow raised.

“ _ She is very convincing.” _

_ “Yes, I am sure she is. But is it the truth?”  _ This had been the question Clarke had feared. She didn’t know how she was meant to respond, not without truly risking Costia’s life or her own. But she couldn’t not answer. And ultimately, she wasn’t going to betray her queen and the people who had given her a home. Her eyes flickered towards Ontari who gave her an encouraging nod; she needed Clarke to deliver what Nia wanted so that they could both get their marks.

_ “She is Trikru my queen. I have no reason to believe her any more than I would the rest of her people.”  _ Clarke felt a cold wash over her as she spoke. She hadn’t lied. But her vagueness had done nothing to protect Costia, and it was a certainty that Nia would interpret what she had said as a indicator of Costia’s defiance. She had signed the girl’s fate.

_ “You are quite right my child.”  _ Nia responded. But the praise and endearment rang hollow in Clarke’s ears. This was not what she had wanted. But she hadn’t seen any other way around it. She had had to make a choice, and choosing her people was the right one. But that didn’t ease the guilt, or the dread, that was sat in the pit of her stomach. Costia’s time was up.

Nia’s attention switched back to Roan. She had clearly been thinking about the best way to dispose of the girl. She needed to make sure she was both efficient in her actions, but that they also offered the most benefit to Azgeda.  _ “Roan, tomorrow the prisoner will be executed.” _

Clarke sucked in a pained breath, despite knowing it was going to happen, it still didn’t make it any easier. Ontari gave her sister a weird look, having heard the sound. This had been what they had been heading towards the moment they had captured Costia. Clarke shouldn’t be surprised by it. Luckily Nia either hadn’t heard her, or chose to ignore Clarke.

_ “Do it in the square, I want out people to know that we take the Trikru threat seriously.” _

_ “Yes, my queen.”  _ Came Roan’s response, playing the role of High General once more.

_ “Oh, and I want the Commander”  _ Nia said the name with a sneer,  _ “to know that I was the one that signed the fate of her little... concubine. Send the Commander her head. One of my little birds in Polis should be able to deliver it in an effective manner.” _

_ “Yes, my queen.” _

Clarke glanced at Ontari. She didn’t know or care for the Commander, but the idea of being sent the head of someone she cared about made her blood run cold. If someone sent Clarke Ontari’s head she didn’t know how she would respond, but it wouldn’t be something that she would be able to deal with quickly and move on from. That was why Nia wanted to do it. To weaken the Commander and make her vulnerable, all while showing her just how much of a threat Azgeda could be. It was the perfect power move. But that didn’t mean that Clarke had to like it.

Clarke pushed the food around her plate absently with her fork as Nia continued to speak to Roan. She hated that she was upset and angry with Nia for deciding to just execute Costia. She shouldn’t be angry with Nia, she trusted her. Only she didn’t agree with her this time. And that was making Clarke doubt herself. Because she had gotten herself attached to the Trikru girl which was just a sign of weakness; maybe Costia had been right that first night, she was too weak to be Azgeda. But then that wasn’t true. This was the first time Clarke had ever faltered or stumbled over a command. There was just something about the Trikru girl that threw her off kilter.

_ “Ontari, Klark, will you both join me for a moment?”  _ Nia asked, her voice breaking through Clarke’s reverie as she rose from the table. The two girls shared a look of curiosity, but didn’t waste any time in also rising and following behind Nia. Clarke didn’t see which way Roan went but he had a long list of things he needed to do and didn’t follow.

Nia led the pair of them into the war room. It was empty now, the fire in the hearth was burning low which made the room cooler than its usual sweltering heat, and there were only a few sconces lit. Whatever Nia wanted to talk to them about was serious if she had brought them in here. It made Clarke a little nervous. What if Nia knew about her apprehensions over Costia’s execution? What if she was going to punish Clarke for her disobedience? What if she was going to banish her?

_ “Roan has kept me informed on both of your conducts. And despite the… unfortunate conclusions to this mission, I am pleased with how both of you have acted.”  _ Nia spoke, her tone not as harsh as it could have been. It made Clarke focus more, relieved that Nia wasn’t angry with her.

_ “Does this mean we get our marks?”  _ Ontari asked, she was going a good job in keeping the excitement out of her voice, although her eagerness was obvious. Nia seemed to take a long moment before replying, eyeing each of the girls individually.

_ “Yes, Ontari, I will be giving you your mark. You have earnt it.”  _ She finally spoke, but her attention was directly solely towards Ontari. It wasn’t missed by either girl.

“ _ Me? But not Klark?”  _ Ontari asked tentatively, because that’s what it had sounded like, but it was hard to be sure with Nia. Everything she did was deliberate, but her reasons weren’t always clear.

_ “Not Klark, just you Ontari.” _

Clarke felt like the world had dropped out from beneath her feet. A sense of dread washed over her. This was it. The moment when Nia had decided that the girl who fell from the sky was no longer worth her time. That after all of these years she still hadn’t been able to please Nia enough to let her stay. To let her be part of the clan. Nia knew about Clarke’s doubts and worries over Costia and saw that same weakness that Costia had. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, and it was taking all of her effort to control her breathing, so her panic wasn’t obvious. It was like she was in a fog, barely able to focus on Ontari’s raised voice.

_ “What? Why not? Klark did everything you asked her to do! She’s worked just as hard as I have, she deserves to earn her mark as well! I’m not going to let my sister spend more time training when she doesn’t need it, or worse, have her leave because you can’t make your mind up. It’s not fair!”  _ Ontari wasn’t shouting, you never shouted at Nia, but her outrage was very visible. Nia waited until she had finished speaking before sighing deeply, levelling her gaze at Ontari.

_ “Did I say I was keeping her in training or banishing her?”  _ Nia asked in an exasperated tone, she had a lot on her mind and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with a tantrum from the girl who was meant to one day be their leader. Ontari should know better than to let her emotions out.

Nia’s words had the effect of causing Ontari to pause before speaking again. Apprising her for a moment, it took some effort to rewire the path of thought her mind had been wandering down.

_ “What are you saying? Because if you’re not banishing Klark, but you’re not giving her her mark, what is left?”  _ Ontari asked. Nia sighed again, but turned her attention towards Clarke who was still rooted to the spot. She hadn’t paid attention to any of the conversation, focusing so hard on trying to prevent her brain from spiralling further. 

_ “Klark.”  _ Nia said in a harsh tone. It worked to catch Clarke’s attention, she blinked several times, trying to get herself to focus on Nia. Her voice was unreadable, as always.  _ “Roan told me that it was your idea to try and manipulate the prisoner. And through both his reports and your own I’ve seen that you’ve achieved a level of intelligence that was unexpected. As such, it seems your newfound talents make you an even more useful asset than I had previously thought. So, no, you won’t be getting your Azgeda mark because a spy is no good if they can be identified on sight.” _

Clarke blinked some more in response. Trying to take in what Nia was saying; she wasn’t getting kicked out of Azgeda, but instead being promoted to a far more prestigious position than just a warrior. She risked a glance at Ontari whose own face was going through a myriad of expressions.

_ “A spy? Me? Really?” _ Was all that Clarke could manage to get out, still trying to process everything.

_ “That  _ is  _ what I said.”  _ Nia responded.  _ “Ontari, we will have your marking ceremony tomorrow, after the execution. Klark, tomorrow I will also formally recognise you as being part of the army. Both of you will train with the other warriors. Klark, you will continue to work alongside Ontari as a healer. The missions you will be sent on will be to help develop your skills.”  _ Nia spoke in her usual authoritative tone, giving out orders like they were discussing any other battle. Both girls nodded along.

_ “Good, I shall see you both tomorrow.”  _ Nia said, dismissing the pair of them.

Clarke’s mind was reeling, as was Ontari’s. So, neither said anything to the other. Clarke couldn’t believe it. Her emotions were all over the place. She had been sure that Nia was going to punish her, that she was going to be in trouble. And now she was being told the opposite. That Nia trusted her enough to give her a position that only went to the most competent and loyal warriors. The swell of pride in her chest filled Clarke with joy. But she was also a fraud, because it hadn’t been her idea to manipulate Costia. She had just used that as an excuse to escape dealing with something she didn’t want to do. She was going to have to work even harder to prove that Nia’s faith was justified.

But through it all there was an overwhelming sense of relief and comfort. Clarke was no longer teetering on the edge of something, she was being embraced as a fully-fledged functioning member of Azgeda. But it was a calm and security that was being paid with by Costia’s life. The only way Clarke could push through her conflict was to repeat the same phrases over and over again:

_ Her life is nothing to my loyalty. My loyalty is what makes me Azgeda. Azgeda is my home. _

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been 10 years since Clarke Griffin tumbled out of the sky and down to earth. A lot has changed in those ten years. She's found a new family in the cruel world below amongst the Azgeda elite. Clarke has learnt all the tools for survival in the cutthroat icy wilderness.   
> But she's also lost a lot, as the signing of the Commander's coalition came with an unwelcome caveat (well it came with many to keep the Azgeda in check), sending Roan, the queen's son, into exile with no opportunity to return to his family or his people.   
> Clarke has been impatiently waiting for the moment when the queen will see her as the valuable member of the clan, and just like her sister, send her out into the world to fight for the Azgeda people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, 
> 
> I know its been a really long time since i last updated and tbh I don't have all that much of an excuse, and I also know this chapter probably doesnt make up for how long you have been waiting. BUT it is here now, and we've finally reached the time period that all the story's main action happens
> 
> So just a summary, Clarke is about 18 years old here and Ontari is about 20. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

** Chapter 11 **

 

Clarke could feel the sweat dripping between her shoulder blades. Her hair, having escaped some of its braids, was stuck to her neck and plastered across her forehead. She was panting heavily, and she definitely no longer looked as put together as normal. But she was also way too relaxed to care. She’d been working non-stop at the hospital for the last ten days and needed a way to let off steam.

Luckily for her, Joff? Toff? Taff? Drake? Whatever his name was, had wanted the exact same thing. And after a few cups of alcohol his moderately appealing face had improved greatly. There were definitely worse candidates. Although the look on his face right now was kind of off-putting. He tilted his head forward as if to kiss her, but Clarke took the opportunity to flip them over, pinning him to the bed with her hands on his chest.

_“Woah you’re fast…”_ He had a stupid grin on his face and Clarke resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t really in the mood to chat. Luckily, whats-his-name seemed to get the message and was more than happy to oblige Clarke. Despite how stressful life was, with a strong awareness that death could be around the next corner amongst the Azgeda, there weren’t all that many opportunities to have fun like this. Something completely spontaneous. But as there was no attachment, Clarke technically hadn’t broken any of Nia’s rules.

“ _Klark I’m back and could use a dri-“_ Ontari’s voice cut through the bubble of heat and heavy breathing that was surrounding the pair. Both Clarke and whats-his-name’s heads snapped towards the door at the sound, Clarke looked far less shocked than he did. His face red from more than just the exertion.   _“Woah! So, someone’s having fun while I’m out risking my life.”_

Clarke let out a chuckle, shaking her head at Ontari’s boldness as she strolled further into Clarke’s room, heading towards the bed. Whats-his-name found the situation far less amusing, frantically trying to pull the furs up and around both himself and Clarke. Ontari sat down on the end of the bed with a teasing grin, raising an eyebrow at Clarke as she rolled off of whats-his-name and propped herself up against the headboard, casually reaching for the shirt on the floor beside her and pulling it on.

_“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t just walk in here like that! You need to leave!”_ Whats-his-name snapped at Ontari, halfway between embarrassed and indignant. Ontari glanced at him, a look of momentary disgust on her face before she turned back to Clarke. Clarke just rolled her eyes as he spoke. _“Seriously? You’re just going to ignore me? And sit there?”_

Ontari considered her options for a moment, trying to gage what Clarke wanted. But her patience was waning quickly, and she wanted to spend some time with her sister. As Ontari stood from the bed, whats-his-name muttered something under his breath, relieved that he and Clarke were going to be left alone again. Only to be faced with a very different reality when he was abruptly hit in the face with a bundle of his clothes.

Ontari stood at the foot of the bed with her hands on her hips, staring at him. Whats-his-name spluttered but he couldn’t articulate anything, his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish, he turned towards Clarke for some form of assistance. She considered him for a moment before sighing.

_“Well this was fun and all. But I’m sure you’ve got somewhere to be, so I’ll see you around.”_ Clarke said.

_“What? That’s it? You’re just going to kick me out?”_

_“Yep! Now get to it. Off you go.”_ Ontari responded for Clarke, holding up his boots impatiently. He looked between Clarke and Ontari in confusion but seeing that Clarke clearly shared the same sentiment that Ontari did, as she shrugged nonchalantly in his direction, there wasn’t much he could do but comply.

He grumbled, muttering things under his breath as he hastily tried to pull his clothes back on. His haste and awkward attempts to hide himself from Ontari made him slower and clumsier which just made her laugh even more. His actions and the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks made it clear that he wasn’t a warrior. Warriors, and healer’s like Clarke even more so, saw nudity as another part of life. It was difficult to be embarrassed about one’s body when in enemy territory. He snatched his boots out of her hand as he walked past, muttering something about ungrateful girls who didn’t know what they had given up. Clarke winced as he slammed the door behind him and Ontari flopped down on the bed beside her.

_“Boots off!”_ Clarke said, slapping her on the leg playfully.

_“Clearly there’s been worse things than my boots in your bed.”_ Ontari retorted, earning her another whack. Clarke was glaring at Ontari as she laughed, but it was hard to maintain the serious expression for long before she too joined in.

_“He wasn’t that bad!”_

_“Depends on how much you’ve been drinking.”_ Ontari received another hit.

_“Well that’s all very well coming from miss any-attachment-that-is-not-professional-is-unnecessary over here.”_ Clarke grinned as she spoke, prodding Ontari in the side with each word. Ontari shoved her playfully.

_“You may laugh but that rule has gotten me places.”_

_“Yeah, a cold bed.”_

_“Fine. I shan’t drink with you.”_ Ontari said, her tone mockingly indignant as she went to rise from the bed as if to leave. Clarke grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling her back down onto the tangled mess of furs.

_“You’re not going anywhere!”_ Clarke said, wrestling with Ontari to try and get a hold of her wrists to keep her in place. Both girls divulged into fits of laughter as Ontari fought back, trying to push Clarke off of her.

_“If you don’t let me go then I can’t get the damn alcohol!”_ Ontari shouted, but it was muffled through the fur Clarke had somehow managed to get over her face. _“And you’re not wearing any clothes!”_

_“Fine.”_ Clarke said between giggles, rolling off of Ontari and allowing her to get up. _“But this doesn’t mean you won!”_

_“Yeah yeah.”_

Ontari crossed Clarke’s room to see if there was anything left in the decanter on her table. Clarke used the opportunity to pull her trousers back on. There was still some alcohol left, much to Ontari’s surprise. She took a swig straight from the bottle and grimaced (it definitely wasn’t the good stuff) before grabbing the two cups and walking back over to Clarke and her bed. Settling in beside her sister with a cup in her hand had been just how Ontari had pictured her return from mission would be. It was what she had been looking forward to.

There was a moment of calm contemplation between the pair after the chaos of before. It was comforting. Sitting, drinking, and just sharing in one another’s company. Everyone viewed them as cold and ruthless, Nia’s two deadly hands, always standing by her side. But there was a softness still hidden underneath.

Ontari had struggled to find it for a while. After Nia had seceded to the commander, and Roan being banished as a result, Ontari had tried to feel the space left from his absence. It had made her cold and closed off, barely letting herself even think about her actions, let alone process any emotion. It had taken some time, and some effort on Clarke’s part, before she was brought back to herself. There were still days, when after a heavy mission, it would take a while for Clarke to coax Ontari back from the darkness, but she was able to keep a better hold of herself.

Luckily, this mission hadn’t been too fraught with mental hardships. Despite a skirmish with some Repas (the coalition required Azgeda to give resources to fighting them), the mission had run smoothly. Ontari’s desire to drink with Clarke arose more from having to hold herself a certain way around the other warriors to maintain their respect, then through needing to release any consuming darkness.

_“So… anything exciting happen?”_ Clarke asked, taking the bottle out of her sister’s hand to top up her cup.

_“Not really. Just another meaningless errand.”_ Ontari replied.

_“yeah, but it’ an errand that gets you one step closer to being made General.”_

_“I’m starting to think Nia is never going to make me General. Roan was a year younger than I am now when he was promoted.”_

_“Tari, it’s going to happen! You know what Nia’s like, she’s just testing your patience and dedication. You’re her heir. She needs you to be General.”_

_“Maybe tell her to hurry it up a bit then.”_ Ontari said. Clarke snorted in response, holding her cup to her lips to hide her grin.

_“I’d like to see you try and tell her that.”_

_“Maybe I will!”_ Ontari replied, taunting. Clarke laughed in response.

_“Well you’ll get your chance at dinner tonight.”_ Clarke was obviously teasing, there was no way Ontari was actually going to challenge Nia like that. Ontari let out a grunt, glowering into her cup.

_“I’m not going to dinner. I’m going to bed.”_ She muttered like a petulant child. Clarke rolled her eyes.

_“Nope. Not an option. There are some village chiefs visiting. Nia is expecting us both to attend.”_

_“Urgh, why? You’re far more charming and way better with that type of thing than I am.”_

_“Add it to your list of things to ask Nia.”_ Clarke responded, receiving a not-so-gentle whack to the arm in reply as she downed the rest of her cup before rolling out of bed to start making herself look a bit more presentable. She’d been pushing the line with having a drink and inviting whats-his-name back, now that Ontari had delayed her even more she really needed to focus on sobering up.

_“I’m going to bathe. You better not still be in my bed when I get back.”_ Clarke called over her shoulder as she headed towards her door.

_“Is that what you say at the end of every night?”_ Ontari called after her. A rude gesture thrown back around the door was her answer, the sound of her laughter following Clarke down the corridor.

Clarke was well aware that she wasn’t completely sober, even after a bath and a whole lot of water. But she was sober enough to nod along with whatever Nia told the chiefs and to eat her dinner without making a fool of herself. They would all be drinking again anyway, and it wasn’t like she would be expected to actually give any insightful opinions or anecdotes. That would fall to Ontari, especially since she had just returned from the outer territories. She just needed to smile and pay attention enough to intercept when Ontari’s temper inevitably got them into trouble.

Clarke couldn’t even begin to count all of the things she had learnt since the incident with Costia. She was hardly the same person. But, Nia had still kept her relatively close to home as it were. Focusing her training around the hospital, and their tactical lessons had been more about the people behind the politics of the clans – their weaknesses and pressure points – in comparison to Ontari learning how to lead an army into battle. Nia wanted Clarke close and relatively unknown. All of Azgeda knew about Nia’s little lark who had fallen from the sky, but outside of their territories she was non-existent – her mere presence too valuable a secret for Nia to risk. It was this that made Nia believe Clarke would excel over her other little birds when her time came.

Although Clarke had a suspicion that her chance would never come. With every passing day, every lesson, and every overheard private conversation, it seemed that Nia had every intention of keeping her around. She was a good reminder to the Azgeda people of how powerful Nia was, of how many resources she had that no other clan could even imagine. Who would even think that there were people living in the sky? Let alone that one could actually fall to the ground and belong to Nia. She made the queen look powerful.

Clarke was trying so hard to make sure she was paying attention to what was being said, that she wasn’t actually retaining any of the information. It was something that she needed to work on: maintaining constant focus. Therefore, when she suddenly heard her name she cursed herself internally. She turned to look at the village chief who had spoken, just in time to catch the tail end of what he had been saying.

_“-and I wondered if you had heard anything from the warriors about it?”_ The chief was looking directly at her, as was everyone else. Clarke scrambled to try and find an answer. She knew they had been talking about the southern borders, and how the coalition had affected their ability to control them. But that was a topic more suited to Ontari, she actually went out to the borders to help solve disputes and perform the tasks the coalition required Azgeda to support them in. But the chief was definitely speaking to Clarke, so either he had gotten confused, or he was referring to a different set of warriors than the ones Ontari had experience with.

_“Well, our warriors do not tend to talk about the movements of the army outside of any direct questions about the field.”_ Clarke said. She was hoping to buy some time and give her the option of working out what was going on, by keeping her answer deliberately vague.

“ _I suppose you are right. I’ve just always found hospitals and healers tents tend to have a way of loosening the tongue even more so than a bottle of liquor.”_ The chief replied, a hint of humour in his voice. The other two chiefs chuckled lightly, Ontari’s smile was good humoured although not genuine. Nia, as per usual, revealed no emotional response.

_“I think there’s a direct correlation between the amount of Willow’s root and how courageous the story makes them with how loose lipped a warrior is.”_ Clarke responded in kind, smiling encouragingly at the chief. She still had no idea what they were talking about, but she always found that agreement stroked a chief’s ego enough to console them into thinking they were more intelligent than they really were.

_“There is truth in that statement.”_ A different chief said, drinking deeply from his cup. Clarke smiled politely in his direction and tried to not catch Ontari’s eye at risk of laughing at their pretention. All three of the chiefs, in a misguided attempt to make themselves appear more important and therefore valuable to the queen, were acting with such a ridiculous display of pomp and self-importance that not openly ridiculing them was a difficult task. And it wasn’t helped by their apparent love for alcohol.

_“It doesn’t matter whether the warriors are talking or not, we still need to decide what we are to do about the increase in movement of Trikru soldiers at our border.”_ The third chief interjected. He was probably the middle in age out of the three and had drunk the least. It wasn’t hard to guess that he took his position as chief more seriously than the others, or that he was more afraid of Nia than the other two. Either way, Clarke was grateful he had spoken, because it meant that she was finally back on track with the topic of conversation.

_“I have just returned from the border and cannot say that I saw much movement on the Trikru side of things. But that could be because the cowards left the issue of the Repas to us.”_ Ontari spoke, the derision dripping from her voice. There was no love lost between herself and the Trikru. The two chiefs laughed again, misinterpreting just how serious Ontari was.

_“All reports from Polis, I am afraid, are not as satisfactory as I would wish them to be. It appears my little birds are not as skilled as one would hope.”_ Nia spoke, breaking her silent contemplation. Clarke raised an eyebrow in question, but Nia chose not to respond to her query. As far as she had been aware, Nia had spies throughout the capital, and she was under the impression that there was at least one close to the Commander. Nia’s apparent lack of information was contradictory to this belief, and somewhat troubling.

_“So we don’t know what is going on with the Trikru?”_ The chief asked Nia, he had surprisingly less hesitation in his voice than was usual when people spoke to the queen.

_“That is not what I said.”_ Came the cold response.

_“We know that the Trikru, despite the obligation put on us by the Coalition, are having difficulty in maintaining a control over the Repas. They have grown their army in an attempt to get control, but they are losing more warriors than they can train. As is evident by the fact that the Repas are moving further north, and therefore closer to our lands.”_ Ontari spoke, eager to show off her knowledge and understanding of the enemy armies. Even if Nia barely paid attention.

_“That’s all well and good, but it doesn’t explain_ why _the armies are so close to our villages, nor does it tell us what you’re going to do to fix it.”_ The oldest chief spat back, his face red either from his anger or the drink, Clarke wasn’t sure. The other’s all nodded along in agreement. The resentment over what they saw as a lack of action on the part of the leadership had been building for a while. The tension rose up a notch and the entire room could feel it.

_“Well maybe if you actually decided to leave your villages and_ help us _at the border every once in a while, my army would be more inclined to help you.”_ Ontari snapped at the chiefs, her grip tightening on the handle of her dinner knife. The tension rose again as Ontari gritted her teeth.

Clarke, seeing just how quickly this disagreement could spiral out of control, jumped in to try and diffuse it. _“What my sister means to say,”_ she shot Ontari a warning look before the other girl could actually say what she actually meant to say and thus make this worse, “ _is that, the Azgeda army is working very hard to maintain control and protection of our borders. And as such, they have a lot to do, so it would be beneficial if, seeing as your villages are closest to where the Trikru are gathering, you were to put out your own patrols and then report back to Our Queen so that we can use that information to find out the best way to deal with the issue without compromising our army and spreading it too thin.”_

There was a silence, but it was uncomfortable. The chiefs all shifted in their seats, fiddling with the food on their plates or the drink in their hand. Clarke had managed to shut down the brewing argument, but now the chiefs didn’t know what they were meant to say that would still allow them to maintain their sense of power and importance. Ontari, lacking the embarrassment of the chiefs, was petulantly pushing her food around. Clarke had shut down the opportunity for a fight, which was something that might have made this dinner more interesting.

With no one actually speaking, Clarke became aware of her own presence as it were. She was uncomfortable, she could feel their eyes on her as she tried to eat. Suddenly aware of her lack of sobriety and every action became a deliberate focus to appear normal and therefore to get everyone to stop looking at her. She didn’t like being the centre of attention, she much preferred watching from the background, just where Nia wanted her to be. A lot could be learned from staying out of the way.

Just as Clarke thought the silence couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the servants re-entered the dining hall. With a flick of her wrist, Nia declared that the dinner was over, and the table begun to be cleared. Although, perhaps too soon for the eldest chief who seemed to be quite attached to the boar on his plate and reluctant to let it go.

As the food was cleared away, it was replaced with more alcohol. Clarke declined the offer of another cup, already feeling drained from the evening so far. As was customary, once the evening switched from dinner to a less formal affair, others who were important to Nia joined their small party. Clarke was grateful for the increase in people, she could slip off to a quiet corner and be left undisturbed. Well mostly.

Her hopes for an unmolested evening didn’t last long as the head healer, spying Clarke leaning against the recess of the window watching the room, came and stood by her. Clarke had hoped that if she had received any company, it would have been Ontari, but Toro wasn’t a bad second choice. They didn’t speak for several minutes until Toro finally asked about the dinner, wanting to know what the chiefs – who were now all red-faced and loudly proclaiming to whatever poor official they had cornered about the superiority of their village over others – had had to complain about. Clarke told her the basics of what had transpired, deftly avoiding Ontari’s temper and the potential altercation. Toro agreed with Clarke and Ontari that the chiefs were useless and selfish. She’d expected nothing less.

As the evening progressed, Clarke found that the wind was creeping in through the window frame and staying in her recess was no longer an option. She moved further into the room, seeking the warmth of the fire. The conversation was dulling as people grew cold and tired, all with the exception of the now very drunk and very loud chiefs. When Nia finally decided to dismiss them all it took some cajoling to get the chiefs to leave the banquet hall and retire to their chambers. Ontari was almost certain that if one of them accidently fell down the stairs in a drunken stupor there would be no real case of mourning.

Clarke, upon hearing the dismissal, could feel the weight of her bones sagging beneath her. All of the tension that had been released through her romp with whats-his-name had returned again. She hated gatherings like these. When necessary, she could easily fall back into the role of Nia’s daughter, saying all of the right things, charming those that needed charming, and swooping in to prevent whatever disaster Ontari’s temper was begging to cause. If Nia didn’t want to keep her so close to home, she would have made the perfect diplomat for Azgeda.

However, her plan to slip away and go to bed was thwarted before it even got traction. She was headed for the door behind the others when Nia called both Clarke and Ontari back into the dining hall. It took a conscious effort to hold on to her exasperated sigh in front of everyone as Clarke stopped short and slowly turned back on her heel to heed Nia’s call.

The queen was stood by the fireplace, an empty cup in her hand, as she waited for the girls to reach her she stared into the flames. Deep in thought about something, either about the events of the evening or some other issue in the far reaches of her land. It was impossible to tell. Nia had a lot to ruminate on.

_“Klark, I was impressed with how you behaved at dinner this evening.”_ Nia spoke once the three of them were left alone, there was no smile, but her voice was warmer than its usual iciness. Clarke was taken by surprise.

_“You were?”_ The question just slipped out. She was too unsure about herself to see that Nia was being serious. And too tired to not be certain that she wasn’t hearing things.

_“Yes. You diffused the tension, and gave an intelligent and reasonable response, quickly and efficiently. It was very diplomatic of you.”_

_“Oh, thank you”_ Clarke mumbled, her hands fiddling with the buckles on her coat as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

_“And, it has made me reconsider my position on you.”_ Clarke paused her fidgeting to look up at Nia, whose ever-nonchalant appearance was firmly in place as she stared into the flames. “ _I believed that you were still not ready to leave the city. I thought that you still required more time to hone your skills before you were ready to take on more responsibility. But I believe now, that I have been blinded by my affection for you. I did not want to admit you were ready, although I now fear you have been ready for quite some time.”_

Clarke was at a loss for words.  Nia had never spoken to her with so much encouragement before, and she had been pretty sure the word ‘affection’ wasn’t even in Nia’s vocabulary. She couldn’t maintain the eye contact that she felt this conversation deserved, scared that Nia would be able to see just how much what she was saying was affecting her. The flames climbing up the hearth and the buckle on her coat very quickly became the most interesting things in the world to Clarke as she tried to hide her embarrassment. It didn’t help that Ontari was also remaining silent. Clarke really could have done with some of her sisters teasing, or at least some sort of cutting remark about her intelligence. Anything to make her feel more at ease and less like the focus of everyone’s attention.

Nia had paused for a moment, to observe Clarke. She’d expected her to react no differently than she had. Although she had hoped that Clarke would have been able to hide her emotions a little more effectively.

_“As a result of this, I think it is now time that you had the opportunity to prove these skills, and to actually put you to work._

_“The Ambassador has recently informed me that there is an open position for a new healer in the Commander’s tower, very low level and innocuous, which is just the type of position best suited to one of my little birds._

_“I would like you to take this position. As was proven at dinner, my current sources in Polis are lacking and I would very much like to amend that. I know that I can trust you Klark. And your skill at healing means that you are the best suited of all my people for such a role._

_“If we are to take advantage of such an opportunity you would have to leave tomorrow. You would need to get to Polis in order to put yourself forward for the position before others get word. Once there, you would be working within the Commander’s tower. It is highly unlikely that you will have any direct interaction with the commander, but that is most likely for the best, as you will have access to the rest of the tower, able to gather and then send information pertinent to the Commander and her army’s movements. Do you understand?”_ Once she had finished speaking, Nia stared directly at Clarke, her gaze challenging the girl to say something in disagreement.

Clarke blinked several times in response. There was a lot of information to process. The whole exchange felt surreal: in the low light, with the warmth of the fire and the drink in her veins, it was almost as if she was dreaming. Why else would Nia be placing so much trust and faith in her. Why would she give her such a big task? She knew she could do it, gather information from within the Commander’s home itself. But she hadn’t realised that Nia knew it as well. Clearly Clarke had been wrong about that.

Remembering that Nia was still waiting for her to give some sort of response, Clarke nodded her head hurriedly. Her mouth felt dry and her tongue thick and heavy, so that she didn’t think she could actually speak: it was either nerves, excitement, astonishment or fear. Or perhaps a combination of them all.

Nia accepted Clarke’s nonverbal confirmation for what it was, allowing her some time to process before carrying on. _“Whilst in Polis you will report directly to one of the ambassador’s messengers but keep your distance from the ambassador themselves. Unfortunately, the chances of you getting the position are almost non-existent if you present yourself as a member of Azgeda, so instead you will need to assume the identity of a different clan. I’ll leave that decision up to you, as it will need to be a clan you’re comfortable talking about as if it were your own.”_

_“Yes,”_ Clarke stammered, not sure if Nia actually wanted a response, but now that she had found her voice Clarke felt the need to use it. A list of potential clans was running through her head already. Despite her apprehension, starting to think things through had sent adrenaline coursing through her. This was a lot of information to receive and there was a lot she needed to do in preparation, but she had barely any time to even start.

_“Good. I will send someone to escort you to Polis. They will help you seek out the messenger and direct you to the person in charge of the tower’s healers. You will be leaving at first light, so I suggest you go and get some rest.”_ This time Nia did smile at Clarke. It was brief, almost as if it had never happened, but Clarke had seen. It filled her with a sense of warmth because that slight smile told Clarke that Nia did care for her.

Clarke and Ontari were heading towards the door when Nia called out after them, they both turned to face her once more. _“I have a lot riding on your success Klark. Don’t let me down.”_

_“I won’t.”_ And just like that, the pressure was back on.

Ontari was impatient the entire walk back to their rooms. Clarke was silent, her hands twisting together as she thought through everything that could go wrong and everything that she had to plan. But Ontari wanted to speak to Clarke, to reassure her that she would be alright. But she also just wanted to talk, because she didn’t know how long Clarke would be in Polis for. Or if she would ever come back. Spying on the Commander was a tenuous position, there was no certainty of what might happen.

But Clarke didn’t want to think about that. About the possibility that she wouldn’t ever come back to the fortress, or that she may never see Nia or Ontari after tomorrow. Because that was something that made her feel panicky and she didn’t need to panic about something that may not even be a reality. Nia was trusting her to do something important and she wasn’t going to let her down.

They paused outside the door of Clarke’s room. Usually, Ontari would punch Clarke lightly on the shoulder, say goodnight and retreat to her own room. But tonight, felt different. Ontari was annoyed at herself because she had left it until the last moment to speak, they could have been talking the entire walk and they hadn’t. But emotion had never come easy.

Clarke could tell there was something on Ontari’s mind because she was rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, waiting for something. But she didn’t know what her sister wanted so they were stood at an awkward impasse for several moments until Ontari took the first step. Without warning she pulled Clarke into a hug, something that had happened so little Clarke could count it on her fingers. But it was also nice and needed. She wrapped her arms just as tightly around Ontari, her head resting on her shoulder. They stayed that way for several moments, but it wasn’t the awkwardness of before, it felt nice and pleasant.

When they broke apart, Ontari rested both hands on Clarke’s shoulders and looked at her with a serious expression. _“_ I’m proud of you Sky Girl.”

Clarke let out the short exhale of a supressed laugh, ducking her head so that the potential threat of tears couldn’t be seen. It had been so long since they had spoken to one another in Gonasleng, and Clarke couldn’t remember the last time Ontari had called her Sky Girl. Only this time it was said without the mocking of earlier years, but with a strong affection.

_“Night Tari,”_ Were the only works Clarke could bring herself to say without risking crying. But as she turned and entered her room she was smiling.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke finally arrives in Polis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its been a really long time since I updated and I am very sorry about that!  
> I've been working on this chapter on and off ever since I last updated but I just kept losing inspiration because I know where I want this story to go, but I was having trouble actually getting there. I can't guarantee when I'll be updating next because I've got two essays due in May as well as needing to work on my dissertation, but I am trying a new thing where I schedule stuff to try and stay on the top of things and I am going to schedule time for this fic. 
> 
> Despite the long wait, I hope you guys enjoy this!

**Chapter 12**

 

 

Clarke had barely slept that night, despite desperately wanting to. But she had had so much to think about, and just trying to plan what she was going to pack and take with her was enough to disrupt her sleep. But there was so much more going on in her head than what clothes she could take that weren’t so obviously Azgeda. She hadn’t even decided how she was going to present herself once she got to Polis. She needed to decide on her story; what clan she was from, how she had grown up, why she had decided to come to the capital to try and get a job. 

And then there was thinking about all the possibilities for things to go wrong, and how she was going to be able to get the information that Nia wanted from the Commander. Because she had never been to Polis, she had never met the Commander, and she had no idea what it would be like once she was inside the tower. It was one thing to learn everything that could be learnt about the clans, their history and everything that Nia knew about the Commander. But having knowledge wasn’t the same as being a spy. And using one’s own empathy to manipulate others was definitely not the same thing as ruthlessly interrogating someone.

But she had to get there first. And that involved saying goodbye to everything and everyone that had given her a home and a place to belong for so long. Or more accurately, not getting to say goodbye.

The plan was for Clarke to leave at first light, where she would be escorted by one warrior. The Fortress would still be mostly quiet at that hour, and so no one would see Clarke leave. Supposedly it was safer that way, reducing the risk of people knowing where Clarke was going would reduce the number of potential traitors who could betray her to the Commander.

There were other benefits to leaving so early. The Fortress being quiet meant Clarke had less to get emotional over: there wouldn’t be all the people she had spent the last ten years of her life speaking to everyday around her to notice how much she was abandoning. It would just be the empty, cold stone walls. Walls weren’t something that you got attached to.

All of these thoughts transformed themselves into a thick ball of anxiety that sat heavy in Clarke’s stomach as she lay in bed. Sleep was an evasive thing at the best of times, and so well before the sky even hinted at lightening Clarke was awake, staring at the ceiling. She stayed still for as long as she could, but eventually she had to make herself rise and begin hastily packing the belongings she was going to take with her.

She could only take a single bag and so she had to be selective. It was a given that any of grey and white clothing was to be left behind (it was also a given that Ontari would lay claim to anything that Clarke chose not to take), as were all of her thicker brown furs – the other clans had no need for the Azgeda furs that were designed for the harshest of winters. Her remaining wardrobe was drab and plain, lacking any of the cold regal style of the Azgeda.

The most painful thing to leave behind her however was her knife. A present from Nia, it was so obviously Azgeda in the design of the hilt (and the poison on the blade and within the sheath) that it would give Clarke away before she even got settled. It may have been the logical thing to do but leaving the blade out on the table for Ontari to take felt like a betrayal to her queen.

Besides her healer’s bag, everything that Clarke tacked onto the side of her horse in the courtyard was an impersonal and practical object. She was leaving her old self behind in her bedroom. The new Clarke had never set foot in Azgeda territory and was purely loyal to the Commander above all else. Klark kom Podakru just wanted to help protect the Coalition and to heal the people of Polis.

The warrior Nia had assigned as Clarke’s escort was one she had not met before. He had spent the majority of his career carrying messages and smuggling people through borders of other clans. The fact that he had been doing it for many winters proved his efficiency as it was a career path that was seen as a success if a smuggler lasted two seasons. He also proved to be someone who was very comfortable with the silence of his own thoughts, as beyond given Clarke a brief grunt and nod of the head in acknowledgement he hadn’t spoken a word to her.

Clarke, not normally comfortable left with just her thoughts, was grateful for it now as it would give her the time to mourn those she was leaving behind. Except, they had barely made it halfway through the fields that surrounded the outside of the mountain before someone called out Clarke’s name.

She spun round in her saddle, the muff of her scarf concealing her smile as Ontari kicked her horse to catch up with the pair.

_ “What are you doing Ontari?”  _ Clarke called across the field as her sister drew closer. The smuggler was anything but impressed at the appearance of the other girl, he had no time for attachments, even if these girls were the queen’s daughters.

_ “I should be asking  _ you _ that Klark.”  _ Ontari retorted as she pulled her horse up besides Clarke’s.

_ “What are you on about? I’m heading to Polis.”  _ Clarke was confused, and also slightly worried that something had happened that meant Nia had changed her mind.

_ “You didn’t say goodbye.”  _ Ontari had never sounded quite so small or looked as hurt as she did now at the idea of Clarke leaving her. But Clarke didn’t see her vulnerability, letting out an involuntary scoff.

_ “We said goodbye last night Ontari.”  _ Clarke’s tone shifted when she noticed the look of hurt in Ontari’s eyes.

_ “It didn’t feel like a goodbye.”  _ Clarke’s eyes widened at the vulnerability on display.

_ “I thought… I thought that was what you wanted. To not make a big deal out of it. We don’t do attachments remember? Wasn’t that one of the first lessons you and Roan taught me?” _

_ “Well, maybe it’s easier said than done. Because I know I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye. Without saying goodbye properly. Cause I’m going to miss you and its definitely not going to be the same around here without you.”  _ Ontari’s voice was strained, desperately trying to maintain the steady sense of calm aloofness that she was used to. But it was harder than she thought it would be, to act so unaffected.

_ “Ontari, I…”  _ Clarke began speaking but was at a loss for words. There was too much between them to be able to say in a small amount of time.

_ “Klark, you don’t need to say anything. I just wanted you to know that I’m going to miss you. But I also know that you’re going to do so well, you’re finally getting to fulfil your purpose. Azgeda has been so lucky to have you. I’ve been so lucky.”  _ Ontari offered a small smile, blinking back the burning heat of burgeoning tears. She wasn’t going to cry, not even over this. If she didn’t cry about Roan she wasn’t going to cry over Clarke.

Clarke stared at Ontari. More emotion being expressed in this moment than the rest of her lifetime. It was an instinct, to reach across then empty space between their horses and attempt to wrap her sister up in a hug. It was awkward, and Clarke couldn’t get as close as she wanted to. But it was something.

Ontari pulled back, embarrassed over how weak she had been so far.  _ “Make me proud sky girl.”  _ Clarke chuckled lightly at the teasing as Ontari kicked her horses flank and headed back towards the mountain gate.

_ “Take care of yourself wolf pup,”  _ Clarke whispered to Ontari’s treating back. She roughly wiped at her face as the smuggler grunted in her direction. It was time that they got moving proper. They had a long way to go and a lot for Clarke to do.

 

 

In an attempt to make Clarke’s story of being from Podakru more believable, the smuggler led them west rather than east through Trikru territory. It added an extra five days to the already four-day journey to Polis, having to cross down into Podakru and then through Ouskejon Kru territory before they could make their way back into Trikru land and then head to Polis.

It was exhausting, travelling for nine days, avoiding villages and trading posts as much as possible (they stopped at just enough to refill supplies to make the story of Clarke’s journey more plausible). The smuggler barely spoke to Clarke the entire time beyond the bare necessities required to keep them both alive. This journey was nothing like her trips into Trikru with a raiding party. It was dirty and almost slow, trying to not draw attention to oneself without acting like you have something to hide.

The closer they got to the capital the more anxious Clarke felt. Scared that she wasn’t going to be able to complete her mission, and the idea of failing Nia was not one Clarke particularly enjoyed entertaining.

She also disliked her new braids. In Azgeda, whilst her hair was still brighter than anyone else, there were others who were light haired, and she had just muted it with the grey and white feathers and beads that were part of the Azgeda custom. Before leaving she had taken all of those markers out, leaving her braids plain and her hair exposed. The smuggler had pointed out how identifiable she was because of it. So instead of the feathers and beads that showed her prowess as a fighter and healer, she had scraps of black and brown fabric woven through her braids. They were also tighter and left less hair free flowing than how she had always styled it.

Wearing the plain and more drab clothing was also less desirable. Being a favourite of the Queen came with many privileges, one of which was having access to good quality furs and nicer clothing. Apparently, Clarke was more materialistic than she had believed. Or maybe it was just the fact that she enjoyed clothing that wasn’t completely rough against her skin.

But being drab and unmemorable was her goal from now on.

She needed to stay under the radar. Just try and perform any duties efficiently, but not so competently that she stood out. If she was invisible to everyone important in the tower but fit in enough amongst those that weren’t in command, then hopefully she would be able to move about unnoticed. But it was a daunting prospect.

That daunting feeling, like she was against a cliff face knowing she had to climb it and get to the top, but having to do it alone, seemed to build up. When they reached the outposts on the boundary of Polis that mountain had doubled in height. Just seeing the walls of Polis so close made her feel a little sick. Her heart pounded as the guards at the gate checked both Clarke and the smuggler over for weapons, worried that they would see through her cover story in an instant. But they didn’t. They took her story of looking for a job as a healer at face value, waving the duo through the gates and into the cacophony that was the city. They left the horses in the stables by the gate, Clarke hauling her belongings onto her back.

Clarke, used to the continuous movement that was the Nia’s fortress, hadn’t even given the streets of Polis much thought. But it was like stepping into another world. She was surrounded by people, on every side they pushed and jostled, shouted and haggled with vendors. There was so much colour, it felt like the world couldn’t contain it all, yet here it was compressed into one space. It was like watching the stands at the fighting pits, only without the scent of blood in the air and the constant threat of someone pulling a knife.

The crowd at Polis was something different from the drunken raucous of the Azgeda gatherings. These people weren’t fighting for dominance over one another. They were just fighting for their place in the world, only it wasn’t really fighting, it was more of a determination. Clarke felt watched by a thousand eyes whilst simultaneously feeling invisible. Vendors followed her and the smuggler as they weaved their way deftly through the crowd, but the moment it became apparent they weren’t going to buy anything, the vendors shifted their attention to another. No one noticed anyone for more than half a second, before something else caught their eye.

It was overwhelming. Everything Clarke had been trained to do, to keep an astute eye on her surroundings and watch for enemies, seemed redundant within the city walls. Every person simultaneously looked like a threat but also completely harmless. Amongst the plethora of people Clarke struggled to pick out anyone that looked like Azgeda, yet she could identify people from nearly every other clan. A strong mix of Trigedasleng and Gonasleng was being shouted. Children darted between the legs of strangers. Clarke admired the audacity of the little pickpockets, playing out their games as if the adult world above them didn’t exist.

The smuggler walked quickly, barely giving Clarke time to take in everything that was happening around her. He wove his way through the crowded marketplace and took her down side alleys and quieter streets. Eventually they stopped outside an innocuous looking door near the city centre and the Commander’s tower. The Smuggler knocked three times before stepping back. Clarke felt uncomfortable, standing in that quiet street. She felt like she was being watched, cursing herself internally as she started when a pair of children raced past them. When the street was empty again, after what felt like forever, but was really only a few moments, the door swung open. The smuggler stepped inside, and Clarke followed, wishing she had easier access to the knife stowed away in her bag.

The room was poorly lit, and stuffy. A low fire burning in the hearth. They were alone with the exception of another man. Clarke shifted on the balls of her feet, eyeing the man much the same way he was eyeing her. He didn’t seem like much of a threat, not that much taller than she was. She could take him in a fight if it came to it.

_ “Is this her?”  _ He spoke suddenly, addressing the smuggler.

The smuggler grunted in affirmation. He really seemed to detest speaking.

_ “Not quite what I pictured.”  _ The man muttered, Clarke rolled her eyes in response. She was used to being underestimated. She wasn’t particularly tall, nor was she as slim as other women. Her muscle wasn’t as obviously distributed as others, her shoulders lacking that broadness that seemed to denote strength. But Clarke had learnt how to use people’s preconceptions of her to her advantage. She was a good fighter, she had stamina and could think on her feet. She wasn’t as easy as they always thought.

_ “Is she any good at healing?”  _ The man asked, once he had finished appraising Clarke. He was still directing his questions to the smuggler. It had been a while since she had experienced disrespect like this, she’d forgotten how much it had annoyed her.

_ “ _ She  _ is right here.”  _ Clarke spat out, unable or unwilling to be ignored. The man shifted his attention towards her, and even the smuggler lifted an eyebrow in surprise. She had been sober and docile on the journey because it had suited their situation, but she wasn’t going to be so now. She outranked this man and deserved his respect because of it.

_ “Hmm... I can see that.”  _ The man responded, attempting to appear nonchalant about Clarke’s position.  _ “So, are you any good at healing?” _

_ “Yes.”  _ As far as Clarke was concerned, this man didn’t deserve – and she wasn’t required to give – an explanation. Besides, she didn’t like the way he was looking at her.

_ “Nia must be getting desperate, sending a child,”  _ He muttered, turning his attention back to the Smuggler, shooting the man a mocking smile to try and make him complicit in his views. The smuggler ignored him, but Clarke did not.

She acted on instinct, stepping forward and closer to the man, she grabbed the first thing she could off of the table to her right. The man’s eyes widened in panic, and a little surprise, at suddenly feeling the prongs of his dinner fork pressed against the soft flesh of his neck. Clarke stared at him for a few seconds, watching the way his lip quivered and sweat formed on his brow. 

_ “Are you questioning the decisions of our queen?”  _ She asked him, her voice low, speaking directly into his ear. The prongs of the fork wobbled as he swallowed thickly, internally cursing himself for underestimating the girl. He should have known better, if she was coming straight from the fortress than of course her devotion for Nia would be unflappable.

_ “N-No”  _ He stuttered out.

_ “Thought so,”  _ Clarke said coldly, dropping the fork from his throat and taking a few steps back so that she was almost at her original position. The man rubbed at his throat with a hand that was shaking. As Clarke’s face shifted into the impassive mask that was standard for Azgeda, she felt herself retreat further within herself. It had been instinct, not something that she had thought through. Like a switch had been flipped at the thought of someone doubting Nia. One minute she was watching her surroundings, on edge in the unknown darkness of the house, and the next she had a weapon to that man’s throat. She would need to get a hold of such an instinct if she wanted to stay inconspicuous; what healers were trained to the same level as warriors?

The entire exchange the smuggler had stood there, his expression never changing. He made no attempt to intervene, curious to see what Clarke was going to do. Whilst his face was blank, he was bemused by the way the man readjusted his clothing in an attempt to hide how rattled he was, especially seeing how Clarke seemed entirely unphased.

_ “Now that’s out of the way, shall we get um… get down to business?”  _ The man said, his voice an octave higher than before. He glanced cautiously at the pair before continuing.  _ “My name is Egust. I work in the kitchens at the Commander’s tower.”-   _ Clarke failed to stifle a snort, how did he ever think he was superior to her -  _ “Provided you get the healer’s job, you can report any of your findings to me. Do you understand?”  _ He directed this second part of the conversation towards Clarke, feeling the pressure of her obvious disdain for him.

She disliked the fact that she was having to report to Egust. She outranked him back in Azgeda territory and was clearly a better fighter than he was. But here, in Polis, the rules of Azgeda didn’t matter all that much. So, she nodded her head in response. She would let him think she also valued the art of using few words. She wasn’t here to make friends, even with another Azgeda.

_ “Ok, good… um, there is a little time until I can get you in to see Bav – he is the head of the tower’s healers when Titus’ duties as Fleimkepa make him too busy. He is the one you’ll need to prove yourself to.” _

As Egust was talking, the smuggler turned and left back through the door they had come. Leaving the pair of them alone. Clarke couldn’t say she was surprised that his departure had been so abrupt, he spent his entire life collecting and delivering people; not sticking around was how he was still alive. But he had been one of the last vestiges of home, even if Egust was also Azgeda, he wasn’t in the same way that Clarke and the smuggler were. He’d spent so long in Polis, and whilst she couldn’t question his loyalty to the queen (if he wasn’t loyal than he wouldn’t be spying for her), he didn’t share the same level of reverence as other Azgeda did.

Egust shifted as the smuggler left, feeling a little intimidated now that he and Clarke were alone. But he had to push that down, he was meant to be guiding the girl. They were his orders from the ambassador who had them from the queen. It was his responsibility to get her placed within the tower. But there was only so much he could do, if she didn’t charm Bav than it was a lost cause.

Clarke was uncomfortable, shifting her weight to her other foot as the anticipation built up within her. Egust cleared his throat awkwardly, not making eye contact with her

_ “Bav won’t be free for a while, but I think it’s a good idea for me to show you the city beforehand.”  _

Clarke nodded in response, holding firmly to the illusion that she was just as stoic as the smuggler. There was something about Egust that made her want to conceal parts of herself. If she thought rationally about it, she would probably conclude that at least part of this disdain and reluctance derived from how quickly he had misjudged her: first impressions were always hard to shake. But it was also affected by the fact that Clarke, having just left everything she cared about behind her, wasn’t willing to open herself up again. If questioned, she would probably hold onto the lie that it was for survival. It wasn’t a complete lie, but it felt like one when she couldn’t shake the fear of being left alone again.

Clarke blinked at the light of outside, which was dim compared to the way the sun bounced off the snow at home. Egust had kept his rooms unnecessarily dark, it amused Clarke to think it was because he was trying to make himself seem more conspiratory, when in reality it just damaged his eyes and was more hassle than it was worth.

She shifted the weight of her bag onto her other shoulder as Egust wove through the narrow streets of Polis’ residential area. It was eerie, every house was different, made out of different materials and different shapes, yet every street they turned down felt exactly the same to Clarke. It felt chaotic but also organised, everything had a place that only made sense to the city’s inhabitants.

Egust spoke a little as they walked, pointing out noticeable houses and explaining sporadically what things were. But he had no consistency, and would point out what Clarke assumed was obvious (such as stating the baker’s shop despite the obvious bags of flour and the heavy scent of bread as they passed) whilst failing to explain the more unusual sights (such as why there was a building, the entire outside of which was covered with swatches of different fabrics but then only had a trough of flowers out front). It was despairing, not being able to immediately plot out a map of the city in her head. It made her feel vulnerable, not knowing for definite which way to turn.

Egust led them to the market, it took Clarke a while to realise that it was a different market than the one she had passed through on first entering the city. The uncertain scowl that had adorned his face whilst in Clarke’s company evaporated as he smiled and greeted the vendors that he knew (presumably through his position in the tower kitchen). He introduced Clarke to a choice few, telling them a story that he presumably fabricated on the spot about having grown up with her brother and was now helping her out in finding a position. Most of the vendors accepted the story readily, sharing their smiles with her and asking her about what she thought of Polis and the people. Clarke tried to match their cheerfulness, playing into the role that she and Egust had constructed for herself.

There were others who Egust introduced her to that weren’t automatically as cheerfully accepting. They took their time to look Clarke over, and she returned the favour, sizing her and her story up. It was only after they slipped away from the market and finally began moving towards the tower, Egust taking them down a quiet side street, that Clarke found out why some people were more suspicious than others: they were Egust’s connections. Other spies and informants, some of them Azgeda also, others who sold information to whoever was paying. It had been the fellow Azgeda who had paid the closest attention to Clarke, trying to figure out whether she was also one of their clan. Clarke had always known that Nia had a lot of spies – and that they were spread across the clans – but that had been a theoretical understanding. Now it finally hit her just how extensive her queen’s influence reached.

It probably wasn’t part of Egust’s plan but showing Clarke around the city had removed any traces of anxiety at the idea of trying to infiltrate the Commander’s tower. The distraction had only worked for as long as they were out of sight of the tower in question. The knot in Clarke’s stomach sprung up unexpectedly as they approached the rear door of the largest building in the city. It was the idea of being so close yet so at risk of failure that was making her nervous. But her training kicked in once she was inside.

She focused on the sound of their footsteps as Egust led her towards the tower’s infirmary, the corridors cool and quiet compared to the bright bustle of the city outside. It was uncanny, the familiar feeling and atmosphere of walking within the heart of a city was juxtaposed by just how different these walls and corridors were from that of the Fortress. The stone was smooth, and whilst cool it was nothing compared to the icy roughness of home. There was a quiet that filled the space, the soft sounds of shuffling feet and a door being shut, the muted and incoherent sounds of people talking. They passed a handful of people, barely sparing them a glance beyond greeting Egust.

There was a palpable shift in the air as they approached the infirmary. The content hushness of the Tower’s staff dissolved into the familiar thickness of a healer’s room. The quiet sounds of groaning in discomfort and the never ceasing shuffle of hurried feet were something Clarke felt familiar with, as was the smell. Egust seemed less than comfortable with being in such a space, shifting on his feet in the doorway, waiting for Bav to notice the pair.

Clarke took the time to look around the infirmary and was impressed with what she found. It seemed clean and orderly, and they definitely didn’t seem to lack healers or space for the injured the way the hospital at home always seemed to. But there were also fewer warriors being treated for injuries than she was used to, the few patients that there were there seemed to be suffering from ailments such as fevers and a servant being helped with some sort of scrape. 

It wasn’t long before they were spotted, a bare faced man with a single braid running down his back crossed the infirmary floor, smiling at them. He greeted Egust with a grasp of the arm and a clap on the back, before turning his attention towards Clarke. She shifted under his gaze, lifting her chin up and straightening her back as if it was Nia staring her down. It was crucial that she made a good impression.

_ “I’m going to assume that you are the healer that Egust has recommended to me?” _ The man asked, an almost jovial smile on his face. Clarke’s initial assessment told her he was obviously trusting, and apparently optimistic too.

Clarke gave off a false chuckle, flashing her own smile in return.   _ “I don’t know quite what he’s told you,”  _ she glanced towards Egust then, trying to read what he was thinking but she couldn’t find anything conclusive in his face,  _ “but I am a healer, yes.”  _ Her attention back on Bav.  _ “I’m Klark kom Podakru.” _

_ “You are younger than what I thought you would be, from what Egust has told me. He said you are quite accomplished as a healer, having spent some time travelling.” _

_ “I started training young,”  _ Clarke smiled, shifting her persona and tone of voice to fit in with the lie that Egust had apparently already spun.  _ “and travelling makes it sound far more interesting than it actually was. I more just moved around until I could find a place that would give me work. But I suppose it has given me more experience than if I had just stayed within our little village.” _

_ “And it has also led you to our city.”  _ Bav added, still smiling.  _ “We get a variety of injuries here at the tower, although most are fortunately minor domestic accidents and the occasional training injury, it is still our responsibility to keep everyone in this tower healthy.”  _ He was making polite conversation, trying to see if Clarke would be up for the task of working in the tower. Clarke shifted, trying to fit into a role of what she imagined a young healer looking for work would be.

_ “Does that include the Commander?”  _ She asked him. Clarke could feel Egust’s eyes on her, apparently thinking that she had made a wrong move. Bav looked her over with a slight raise of his eyebrows, curious more than concerned about her question. Clarke did her best to act nervous, it was a risk, so blatantly asking about the Commander but she needed to know how close she was going to be able to get, and she hoped that Bav would just read her awkward shuffling as the mark of someone who was nervous of having to deal with such responsibility; after all, what girl from a small village wouldn’t be concerned that the fate of her nation was in her hands?

It felt like the silence stretched on forever, Clarke anticipating how Bav would respond, hoping that she hadn’t just blown her cover. In reality, the wait was mere seconds, Bav smiling encouragingly down at her.  _ “No, there’s no need to worry about that. The Commander is only seen by myself and Titus.”  _ Clarke forced herself to relax, to appear as if she deflated in relief at this apparent alleviation of pressure.  _ “Now,”  _ Bav began speaking again, the topic apparently forgotten, “ _ Usually I would test a potential healer, ask them to see to a patient but fortunately for you you’ve arrived during a quiet period. So that’s not really going to work. But, I suppose, seeing from what Egust has already told me in that you are both fully trained and have had direct hands-on experience, you won’t need to shadow someone. _

_ “You’ll still undergo the one-week trial period, just like everyone else who joins my team, but I shall be holding you to a higher standard than the usual, fresh-off-one-year trainees. Do you understand?” _

Clarke felt both relieved that she seemed to have made it through this first stage without any issues, and also the sense of pressure that she was going to have to prove herself in order to stick around. But she knew she could do this, she’d been working in the Azgeda hospital as a fully trained healer for a while now. She could handle the apparent quiet pressure of the Tower.

_ “I won’t let you down sir,”  _ Clarke said with a smile, fully throwing herself into playing the part of naïve village healer.

_ “There’s no need to call me sir, Klark, Bav will do just fine.”  _ Clarke smiled and nodded eagerly. Apparently satisfied with the response he turned his attention back towards Egust.  _ “Thank you for bringing her here safely, I assume you’ll be needing to go back to work?” _

_ “Yeah, you know what Cook’s like.”  _ Egust said with a grin, Bav laughed in response and missed the look Egust shot Clarke.  _ “Klark, let me know if you need anything, alright?” _

The double meaning was clear, even without that look in his eye.  _ “I will do, thank you.”  _ Her response might have been for show, the sweet smile and soft tone of voice all playing into her act, but she also hoped Egust wold see through it enough to see her determination and devotion to the cause.

As Egust left, Clarke could feel Bav’s full attention on her, but it wasn’t hostile. He was smiling at her warmly, and she got the sense that he was the type of man that wanted to make people feel comfortable. Such a trait helped when you were a healer, putting people at ease made the job easier.

_ “I won’t need you to start work until tomorrow. You’ll need to be at the infirmary at dawn, you’re joining me for the morning shift.”  _ He flashed her a grin, and whilst the idea of an early start had never been something Clarke had gotten used to, she got the sense it wouldn’t be so awful with Bav.  _ “Let me show you around the tower now, we’ll see how good you are at remembering directions and whether you’ll turn up on time to tomorrow.”  _ He laughed, and Clarke allowed a nervous laugh to slip out, knowing full well she would have the layout of the tower in her head before she went to sleep, but wanting to keep up and reinforce the charade.

Bav didn’t wait for a response and started walking away from the infirmary entrance, Clarke walked beside him, adjusting the wait of her bag on her shoulder as she did so. Bav began talking almost as soon as they started walking, changing between pointing out locations in the tower, to explaining the type of thing the servants would be doing and when, to telling Clarke anecdotes about his time in the infirmary. It was hard, trying to maintain her character enough to respond appropriately to what Bav was saying, whilst also trying to retain all of the information he was giving her about the tower and its layout.

As Bav lead her further down the corridor Clarke could hear the sound of many heavily booted feet walking ahead of them. There were no voices, just the sound of footsteps, like an army was walking through the building. Bav seemed unfazed by the sound, still talking although hi voice was a little quieter, leading Clare around a corner. At the other end Clarke caught the flash of a black coat sweeping the floor as its owner turned further away from them, followed by four heavily armoured guards. The sounds of their footsteps rescinded, and Clarke’s focus was drawn back to Bav as he showed her to her room.

Once inside, Bav returned back to the infirmary, leaving Clarke alone for the first time since she had left Azgeda. The rush of silence was comforting. She took her time in unpacking, putting away her clothes in the chest at the foot of the bed and laying out her healer’s equipment on the table. Her room was smaller than her old one, with less space to move around and no fireplace only a small wood heater and a single window. But she hadn’t expected to receive the luxury of the fortress here in Polis. It was still nice, to have a space for her own. And she was grateful someone had thought to provide her with a basin and a carafe of water, finally getting the chance to wash the grime of her travels away although a bath would have been heaven in that moment. But that was a luxury she was going to have to save for another day.

Tomorrow she started work in the infirmary, and with it she started her task of finding out as much as she could about the Commander. But tonight, she got to spend her final evening as Klark kom Azgeda, and just rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know people are anxious for Clarke to actually meet Lexa and we're getting there, I promise! But I did warn that this is slowburn!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey :)
> 
> I hope you all like this. 
> 
> Any comments or criticism are more than welcome, I thrive on validation from other people. :)  
> Feel free to be vocal on my Tumblr: [allthesapphicstars](http://allthesapphicstars.tumblr.com/)


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